


Just Like A Honeymoon

by MittenWraith



Series: Tumblr Anonymous [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Academic Castiel, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bees, Dean Uses His Words, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Human Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Smut-adjacent, Stalking, Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:33:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 37,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6271771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MittenWraith/pseuds/MittenWraith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's almost the new year, and Dean's finally letting himself begin to believe that all of his troubles are in the past. He and Cas are settling into their new life together when a series of anonymous Tumblr messages threaten to tear it all down.</p><p>Wait a second, isn't this how we got here in the first place? Anonymous Tumblr messages?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final installment of the Tumblr Anonymous verse. I've loved writing these dorks and their happy little bee and donut filled world. I was going to end it on a purely happy note, but then I realized Dean's past wasn't entirely done with him. Don't worry, this is Project Beyonce. Everyone (well, everyone who's supposed to at least) gets a happy ending.
> 
> Many thanks to [Shellie](http://meangreenlimabean.tumblr.com/) for the beta, as usual. :)
> 
> ETA: This isn't the final installment of this verse. I guess I lied, then I forgot I said this was the end and wrote another 104k or so... I've also learned never to declare anything "final" because in this world you never know...

New Year’s Eve is the first time Dean sends Cas an official Fiance Anon ask message. Yeah, he’s technically been sending Fiance Anon ask messages for a year and a half, but they’d all been properly anonymous until now. He always figured he’d either remain completely anonymous on Cas’s blog or eventually they’d reveal their real identities, and he would’ve been content either way.

A few months into his anonymous Tumblr relationship with Cas (long before Dean had a name for him other than Bumblebee), he’d saved the FianceAnon.tumblr.com URL one night in a fit of sentimental, melancholy drunkenness. He’d never intended to use it for anything at the time, but he’d felt protective of the name and didn’t want to risk someone else snapping it up. The idea that anyone else might try to represent themselves as the #Fiance Anon left him feeling hollow and cold, and it seemed perfectly logical to his whiskey-soaked brain to guard the URL from being tarnished by some impostor to the title.

Actually using the URL back in the day to communicate with his Bumblebee felt like it would’ve be an unnecessary escalation in their relationship. Before they’d met in person (and moved in together within weeks of that first meeting), Dean had been afraid that sending what still would’ve amounted to anonymous messages from a real, official Tumblr account-- even one created for the sole purpose of maintaining their anonymity-- would’ve been presumptuous. Too concrete; too close to being real.  Not to mention the fact that he worried his Bumblebee might think he was some kind of stalker, setting up a whole blog just to send him messages using the nickname he’d bestowed upon Dean. For the first time in his life, Dean is determined not to drive someone away by pressuring them into a relationship. So the Fiance Anon page remains untouched for over a year, safely tucked away for a rainy day.

Their rainy day is actually heralded with a light dusting of snow three days after Christmas. Dean’s at the shop deep under the hood of the ‘72 Chevy Nova he’s rebuilding, but Cas is still at home since the new semester won’t start until January. While Dean knows Cas is hard at work revising his thesis, he can’t help but picture his boyfriend curled up in a blanket nest on the couch, all warm and cozy and inviting. He shakes that thought off, and then shakes the numbness out of his hands after he tightens the last bolt holding the new radiator in place. He steps back to admire his progress, running through his mental checklist of the few other adjustments he needs to make while glancing up at the clock. If he works through lunch he’s pretty sure he can have her road-worthy by the end of the day.

Dean snorts out a laugh, wiping his hands on a rag as he heads to his office for a few minutes of peace and quiet. Of course he won’t skip lunch, or the chance to spend fifteen minutes on the phone with Cas. Sometimes they’re both so busy that Cas will keep right on working through their lunch breaks while Dean sorts through paperwork at his desk, but they keep the phone line open even if they’re just listening to each other breathe. Or grumbling frustrations under their breath.

While Cas has been on winter break, Dean’s been the one to initiate their daily phone calls. Cas’s schedule is the more flexible of the two right now and he doesn’t mind waiting for Dean to finish whatever project he’s working on to interrupt his editing. Cas tends to lose track of time without the structure of scheduled classes to remind him to stop for lunch anyway, and he’s usually pleasantly surprised when Dean calls every day.

Things go very differently today. Dean’s barely shut the door between the cold garage and the comfortably warm front office on his way to the kitchen to fetch his lunch when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Dean smiles down at the picture of Cas, surprised by his boyfriend’s serendipitous timing.

“If you’d waited ten seconds longer I was gonna call you,” he says, answering the phone as he pulls his lunch from the fridge.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, and instantly Dean’s on edge.

Cas might not be big on pet names, but he more than compensates for it with some sort of magical ability to infuse Dean’s name with at least a thousand different meanings. Just those two words are enough for Dean to pick up on the anxiety in his voice, to feel Cas’s concern practically beaming its way across town. His hand tightens around the phone as he hurries to his office and shuts the door behind him.

“Cas, what’s wrong?”

Cas makes a frustrated little noise, as if he can’t decide where to begin, and then sighs. “I reached a convenient stopping point about twenty minutes ago and decided to take a break and check Tumblr while I was waiting for you to call. I think... “ he trails off.

When he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, Dean can’t take the growing sense of dread any longer and prods him as gently as he can while a thousand grim scenarios play themselves out in his head. “What do you think, Cas?”

“I believe our stalker situation is escalating,” Cas finally replies.

Dean lets that sink in, lets it wash away the nine hundred and ninety nine other nightmarish visions that had been rendered irrelevant by Cas’s statement, only for them to be replaced by a thousand new potential nightmares.

After a deep breath, Dean asks, “Do you want to elaborate?”

Dean can hear Cas pacing around their kitchen, can hear it every time he steps on that one squeaky floorboard, and knows his boyfriend is practically wearing a groove in the floor at the rate he’s moving. And then Dean hears him stop.

“I… do you have time to come home for lunch?” Cas asks, sounding unsure of himself, of the whole situation.

Just when Dean thinks he’s about to back down and wave the whole thing off, Cas sighs and Dean knows it’s serious. He imagines Cas standing there rubbing his forehead, indecisive. But then Cas finds his resolve.

“Maybe I’m blowing this out of proportion, but in case I’m not then I think you need to see this for yourself.”

Dean looks down at his desk where he’s just laid out his ham sandwich and the last of the stuffing left over from Christmas day. He packs it all back up while he promises to be home in ten minutes, and informs Cas that he’s bringing Charlie along with him.

“You don’t need to drag her away from work for this, Dean,” Cas protests.

“If we’ve got some sort of creep threatening us over the internet, you better believe we need Charlie’s help.”

Dean’s pulling on his jacket when Cas finally relents.

“Fine. I’ll see you in a few minutes then,” Cas says. He pauses for just a moment before adding, “Thank you, Dean.”

The way Cas says his name this time fills Dean with a warm sense of relief and hope. “Anything for you, Cas. I mean it. Now let me call Charlie and we’ll both be there before you know it, all right?”

Cas lets Dean go, telling him to drive safely and not to speed. Dean’s about to call Charlie, thumb hovering over the button as he steps around the front counter at Winchester Auto and lets Krissy know he’s going to be out for a while, and no he doesn’t know when he’ll be back. She’s obviously picked up on his tension, and instead of chewing him out for leaving in the middle of the day, her entire demeanor softens.

“Everything okay, boss man?”

“I don’t know,” Dean replies, pasting on a smile for her sake. “But I’m gonna make sure it will be.”

Krissy gives him one bracing, encouraging nod, and he’s out the door and waiting for Charlie to pick up the phone.

“What’s up, Winchester? You slacking off work on a Monday?” Charlie chirps.

“Hey, Charlie,” Dean says, the tightness back in his voice as he slides behind the wheel of his Baby. “Please tell me you’re not too busy to help me out with something.”

There’s no way she can miss the urgency in his tone and her teasing is instantly replaced with efficient sincerity. “I’m never too busy for you, Dean. What do you need.”

“Can you swing by as soon as you get a chance? I think Cas and I are gonna need your particular skill set.”

Charlie’s silent for a moment, before finally asking, “I assume you mean my computer skills, and that you’re not having some sort of life-threatening cosplay-related crisis.”

“Sorry,” Dean replies. “Next time I’ll try to make sure our family emergencies are something the Queen of Moondoor could handle, but right now I need…”

Charlie cuts him off before he can say anything else. “Don’t finish that sentence over the phone, Dean. Just tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.”

“I’m almost home,” he tells her. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just come on in.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

And then she hangs up on him. Dean is tempted to call Cas back just to make sure he’s still there, still in one piece, but he figures he can wait two minutes more as he turns down their street.  The moment he pulls into the driveway Cas opens the front door looking as disheveled as Dean’s ever seen him, which is saying a lot.

When Dean left for work that morning, Cas had been comfortably nestled on the couch in jeans and a t-shirt, but now he’s thrown on several additional layers of Winchester Armor. He’s wearing Dean’s oldest and softest flannel shirt and is in the process of pulling on his fluffy blue bathrobe when Dean gets out of the car. Dean’s pretty sure Cas’s sudden cocooning has nothing to do with the cold.

“Hello, Dean.” The relief is palpable in Cas’s voice.

Dean jogs up to the door and pulls him into a hug, walking Cas backward into the house and kicking the door shut without letting him go. It’s not entirely for Cas’s benefit. Dean hadn’t realized how scared he’d been until he saw Cas, and he’s having a little trouble disengaging from their hug. For the record, so is Cas, and he holds Dean just as tight.

“You’re okay,” Dean mumbles against Cas’s neck. “We’re gonna be fine.”

Cas makes an agonized little noise when he finally lets Dean go and grabs his hand, leading him to the couch where all of his notes have been haphazardly shoved to one side of the coffee table. It’s so unlike Cas to be this careless with his notes that Dean hesitates and Cas has to give him a gentle tug to get him to sit down.

“I haven’t checked Tumblr in a few days,” Cas begins. “I set up a queue to run through the end of the day today since I knew we were likely to be busy over the holiday weekend. The only posts we’ve made since then were the photo from Christmas Eve, the Christmas Day recap where we described a few of our gifts, and the post with Tessa’s artwork. I have no idea when the first of these messages was sent, but I assume it was in response to one of those three posts.”

“Messages?” Dean asks, his brow furrowing as Cas sets the computer on his lap, and Dean realizes that Cas has copied and pasted each of the suspicious ask messages into a single Word document. “As in more than one?”

“Unfortunately,” Cas replies. “When I came across the first one I skipped over it, intending to go back and report the user for abuse later. But then I found another, and another. I thought you should see them for yourself. I know I usually just report and delete anonymous trolls, but something about these particular messages… well, I’ll let you read them. Maybe I’m overreacting.”

Cas has arranged them all chronologically, and as Dean reads, each message feels a little more sinister.

_You know he’s no good for you. He’s no good for anyone. You deserve better._

_What sort of lies has he told you to trick you into thinking he’s your friend? Be careful, because one day soon he’s going to decide he doesn’t need you anymore. Or you’ll learn the truth about him, and you’ll realize you don’t need someone like him in your life._

_You deserve so much better than him. You deserve someone who sees your true potential._

_I’ll be here for you when he breaks your heart. Because I have it on good authority that he will. It’s just a matter of time._

_You might not want to believe me, but I know the kind of person he really is. And I know you. And I know someone who’s eager to help him get what he deserves. I’ll be waiting for you._

_Merry Christmas, love. I was hoping the truth would come out today, so I could offer you a real Christmas present. It looks like I’ll have to wait a bit longer._

_Don’t make me wait too long, or I might feel compelled to take matters into my own hands, to save you from the inevitable heartbreak._

_It might hurt at first, like drawing poison out of a wound, but in the long run, you’ll thank me. I only want what’s best for you. What’s best for both of us. We both deserve to be happy._

_The world wouldn’t miss the likes of him, and you wouldn’t either once you’re free of him. Someday soon you’ll understand it’s all for your own good, and I’ll still be here for you, ready to catch you when you fall._

As he reads, Dean’s fists clench down and he’s grinding his teeth so loud that Cas can hear it. Cas slides the laptop back onto the coffee table and then raises one hand to Dean’s cheek and turns his face away from the monitor so he’s looking right into Cas’s terrified eyes. Dean wants to pull away, to hide, because from what he’s read he’s half convinced that the person sending these messages knows exactly who they are, and that thought’s scary enough. What’s even more upsetting is that someone who knows them personally would say such things at all. Worst of all is the deep, dark fear that, even after everything they’ve been through together, this person might’ve planted some small seed of doubt about him in Cas’s mind.

Cas holds Dean steady through his panic and Dean watches as the fear in his eyes fades away to be replaced with gentle understanding. “I know, Dean.” Cas leans in and kisses him gently, tries to reassure him. “Don’t think for a second that this changes how I feel about you. Okay? This isn’t about you.”

Dean doesn’t look away, doesn’t move at all, afraid he’ll scare Cas off if he so much as breathes. “How can you say that? What if they really do know me? Know both of us?” Dean swallows hard and closes his eyes so he won’t have to face Cas. “What if they’re threatening you _because of me_?”

Dean feels Cas’s fingers slide through his hair and then he’s being gently pulled forward until his forehead comes to rest against Cas’s.

“Dean, look at me,” Cas says, and Dean picks up all the love and trust and understanding in the way Cas says his name. “Please, Dean.”

He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve _any_ of it, but Dean opens his eyes anyway, because Cas asked him to.

“Listen to me very carefully, Dean,” Cas says when Dean meets his eyes. “This is not your fault. You are not responsible for the actions of what is clearly a very disturbed individual.”

“But…” Dean starts, so Cas shuts him up with a kiss. The moment Cas draws back Dean tries again. “What if mfffff.” Cas effectively employs the tactic again.

“Listen to me. I’m not afraid to kiss you again if you attempt to take the blame for this onto yourself,” Cas says, doing his best not to smile and failing a little bit. “For all we know this is the work of some random lunatic in Alaska who has an unhealthy obsession with my blog and has never met either of us before.”

Dean takes a breath, ready to protest again, but Cas narrows his eyes daring him to say anything and Dean blows out all that air and just nods. He leans in and steals the kiss anyway, pulling Cas in for a hug. They sit like that for a minute or two and Dean’s heart rate finally slows back down to normal as the uncomfortable high of panic and dread fades away.

“I’m so lucky I have you,” Dean whispers, while the accusations of their anonymous troll still swirl through his mind. He needs to reassure himself, and Cas. “I’m always gonna need you, Cas. Never not gonna need you.”

Cas holds him tighter, gently petting the back of Dean’s neck and whispering assurances and love into his ear. That’s exactly how Charlie finds them when she lets herself in the front door a few minutes later.

She knocks twice before opening the door just like Dean told her to, calling out to let them know she’s there. When she spots them in the living room she takes a step back at the scene the two of them make on the couch.

“Oh, hey… um, I hope I’m not intruding or anything…”

Dean loosens his grip on Cas so he can turn to face Charlie in the doorway behind him. Cas drops his hand from Dean’s neck but they don’t let go of each other entirely. They both turn a weak smile on their friend.

“No, Charlie,” Dean says, clearing his throat. “No, you’re good. Sorry about that.”

She smiles at him. “Never apologize for being in love, you dope. It’s a beautiful thing.”

Dean shakes his head but he can’t help but smile back, at least until he remembers why he called her over in the first place. “Come on in, Charlie. We may as well get to work here.”

“Work on what?” she asks, taking a seat on the couch next to Dean and setting her laptop on the table next to Cas’s. “You said it was a computer problem so I figured I’d bring Jarvis along just in case.”

Dean nods, but Cas reaches out to hand Charlie his laptop, the screen long since timed out and gone dark so he doesn’t have to see those ugly words again yet. “I’m not sure how much you’ll really be able to help us but Dean insisted on calling you.”

Charlie smiles at him and takes the computer. “Well, Dean sounded pretty freaked out over the phone. I don’t know what kind of problem you’re having, but if he thinks I can help then he’s probably right.”

“To be fair,” Cas replies, “Dean didn’t know the full extent of the situation when he called you. I’m not really sure there’s anything we can do about it.”

“We’ll see about that,” she replies, waking up the monitor. “So what seems to be the trouble?”

Cas and Dean tag team their way through a description of some of the stalker creeps that have bothered them over the last year and a half, and the sudden and intense escalation one of them seems to have made in the last few days. They let her read through the messages Cas compiled and by the time she’s done she’s as freaked out as Dean and Cas are.

“Well, that’s not too disturbing or anything,” she says, minimizing the window with a shaking hand and then navigating back to Cas’s Tumblr inbox.

“That shit’s gotta be illegal though,” Dean says, pointing at the laptop while Charlie taps away at the keyboard.

“Oh, yeah,” she says absently as a bunch of computer gibberish flows across the screen.

Dean’s glad that at least Charlie seems to know what the hell it all means. They let her alone to do… whatever it is she’s doing, but Dean’s slowly losing confidence in her otherwise unassailable hacking skills as her frown deepens. By the time she’s frustratedly whispering sweet endearments and encouragement at the screen he’s had enough.

“What are you even trying to do?” Dean asks.

“Track the IP addresses and figure out who’s sending the messages,” she replies without looking up from the screen. “But they’re not making sense.”

“How so?” Cas asks, sitting up on the edge of the couch so he can try to get a peek at the screen around Dean.

“Well, half the messages are coming from libraries around Butte, Montana, but the rest are being sent from a coffee shop and bookstore here in Lawrence.”

“Maybe the person sending them was out of town for Christmas and kept sending the messages when they got back?” Cas offers as a possible explanation.

Charlie shakes her head and keeps typing. “No, there’s a pretty regular back and forth between the two.”

“So there’s two assholes on the internet ganging up on us,” Dean replies, rubbing a hand over his face. “That’s just fucking great.”

“On a positive note,” Cas says, glancing at Dean to confirm it, “Neither of us knows anyone in Montana. I still can’t imagine anyone we know would send us anonymous threatening letters.”

“It might not be someone you know,” Charlie suggests. “It might be someone who knows _you_ though. Someone who’s seen the two of you around town, someone who’s figured out who you are either by something you said in public or just by paying attention to you without you realizing it. I mean, I figured out who you were pretty quick once Dean showed me your blog.”

“Not everyone’s got your skills, Charlie,” Dean replies, waggling his fingers in a mockery of her speedy typing. “Or your give ‘em hell attitude.”

She snorts at that, but she’s finished with whatever deep background searches she’d been running and turns the computer around to show Cas and Dean her results.

“It looks like the first message came in about an hour after you posted Tessa’s artwork on Christmas Day. Are you positive that was the first time they sent you a message?” Charlie asks.

Cas frowns at the screen, and then glances up at Dean. “I can’t really be sure. We’ve been getting a lot of anonymous messages in the last few weeks; even more than usual since Gabriel invited his followers to send us Christmas gift ideas.”

Dean sighs, his shoulders drooping in resignation. “I knew that would come back to bite us in the ass.”

“Not necessarily,” Charlie replies. “But you said you’ve had a lot of icky anons in the past that you’ve had to block. Maybe that’s why they’ve called in reinforcements.”

“Whatever,” Dean replies. “But why _now_? I mean, we’ve had some pretty sick fuckers send us shit before but nobody’s outright threatened us.”

“Several of their messages seemed to imply they knew one or both of us in the past,” Cas adds thoughtfully, his eyes closed and head tilted to the side as if he were reading those old deleted asks off the insides of his eyelids. “I suppose any number of them could’ve been from one of these… people.”

Dean grunts unhappily, but adds, “Yeah. Cas usually just deletes the crap and only replies to people with actual questions for us.”

Charlie frowns at them. “It’s almost a shame you didn’t save your old messages. I could’ve run a search for any messages sent using the same IP addresses, but it’s okay. I think we’ve got enough to work with here. We’ll figure this out.”

She stretches one arm across Dean to pat Cas on the knee reassuringly. He opens his eyes and offers her a tired smile.

“So what _are_ we gonna do?” Dean asks, subconsciously pulling Cas a little closer. “I mean, what if these people are really about to take matters into their own hands, or whatever shit they said.”

“Well, first of all I think we need to figure out who exactly is sending these,” Charlie says, opening up her own computer and pulling it into her lap. “It might take a while but I have a plan that might help speed things along a bit.”

She taps a few keys and they all watch in amazement as a video security feed pops up on screen. They watch a barista foaming milk, and then the camera switches to a storage room stacked with boxes of books and office supplies on metal shelves, and then a cash register desk where a woman’s ringing up a customer, followed by several different angles of customers browsing a small bookstore, and then a few people seated at cafe tables enjoying coffee and various snacks, before cycling back to the barista who’s now pouring the milk into a shot of espresso. It’s all very dull, but they watch with fascination knowing that any one of these average-looking people could be their anonymous harasser.

They stare at the screen for a few minutes before Cas finally asks, “How will we know who’s sending the messages?”

Charlie opens up Cas’s inbox again and points at the little message icon. “Well, I was sort of hoping one of you would spot someone you know, or at least someone you recognized. That would’ve made things easier. It looks like we’ll just have to wait for them to send another.”

Cas shakes his head. “That shop is near my old apartment. I used to go in there occasionally for coffee. All the employees look somewhat familiar to me, but I don’t know any of them personally. I haven’t been there in months.”

Dean leans in for a closer look and watches the whole loop again. “The barista dude’s a customer at the shop, and so’s his girlfriend. I can’t remember his name but he drives a ‘96 Jeep, and his girlfriend has one of those freaky hybrid things. I can’t imagine it’s him. I’ve never said more than ‘hey, how ya doin’ or ‘you’ll probably need to get the brakes replaced soon’ to the guy.”

“Yeah, professional courtesy and concern for his automotive safety doesn’t seem like grounds for wanting to gank you, or whatever,” Charlie says absently and then turns a slightly horrified face on Dean. “I didn’t mean it like that, Dean. God, do you really think they actually might do something violent?”

“That’s the impression I was getting, yeah,” Dean grumbles out just as Cas’s inbox registers a new message.

Charlie takes a screenshot of each camera angle in the next cycle while Cas opens the message and reads it out.

“It’s all happening now. Isn’t it exciting? Soon you’ll never have to deal with that backstabber again. And then my bumblebee can find his way to a new and better field of flowers, where the honey runs sweeter.”

“What the fuck?” Dean yells, standing up so fast he almost knocks both computers to the floor. He reels around and stares down at Cas and Charlie. “What the fuck? This has got to be some sort of sick joke, right?”

Cas sets his laptop on Dean’s vacated spot on the couch and stands up to pull him into a hug. “I wish it was, but I think we have to assume they’re serious.”

Dean stands stiffly while Cas hold him, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down his side. “The stupid thing is, what pisses me off most is that they’re calling you _their bumblebee_ now.”

Cas tightens his fist in Dean’s shirt and groans. “They’re making threats against you, _specifically_ , Dean. I don’t care what they call me, I’m more worried for your safety.”

That’s when the gravity of it all seems to hit Dean and he slumps back onto the couch pulling Cas with him as he falls. They land in a tangled mess of limbs but luckily don’t crush either laptop that Charlie’s juggling at the other end of the couch.

“Watch it, Dean,” she says, shooting him an annoyed glare. “I’m close to a breakthrough here.”

“You found them?” Dean asks as he and Cas sort themselves out into a semblance of dignity.

“No, but the new message really is a new message. It didn’t come from Butte _or_ the bookstore.”

“So there’s three of them now? How is that a breakthrough?” Dean asks.

“Someone sent it from an airplane. A Delta flight from Butte to Kansas City. I think maybe the one in Montana’s coming to town. And I can… just a second. Pretend I’m not doing this, and never mention this to the TSA.”

Charlie types furiously while Dean and Cas share a concerned glance.

“You hacking the TSA now Charles?” Dean asks. “You tryin’ to get yourself put on the no fly list?”

“Pffft.” She rolls her eyes. “Only if someone opens their yap and talks about it.” She glares pointedly at Dean and he gives her his most innocent puppydog look. She shakes her head at him but gets right back to work. “That’s what I thought.”

A few seconds later Dean hears the printer up on the desk in Cas’s office whir to life and Charlie dashes up the stairs to fetch the papers. She’s back in under a minute and waggles the printouts in front of Dean’s face until he grabs them. He sits back to read through them while Cas peers at the list over his shoulder.

“That’s everyone on our Mystery Troll’s flight,” Charlie says. “Do you recognize any of those names?”

There’s about a hundred and forty people listed, and Dean looks at each name thinking hard if he’s ever known anyone named Gretchen Caroline Thompson, or David Asher Harrington, or Lorraine Elizabeth Bowman, but none of the names are ringing any bells. As he flips each page over he trades a glance with Cas, who shrugs and looks as lost as Dean feels.

“Don’t worry, guys,” Charlie says after they’ve flipped through the first four pages. “Even if you don’t know any of them, at least we have a shorter list of names to work with rather than the entire populations of Butte and Lawrence combined. It’s a start.”

“I wish we had something more concrete,” Cas replies. “Maybe it would help us understand why they’re doing this to us.”

“These kinds of people don’t need reasons, Cas,” Dean reminds him. “Some people are just assholes and get off on terrorizing people.”

He’s about to say something else, but then Dean freezes. One glance at a name and his past comes flying back to hit him in the face. He can see that his hands are trembling a little and rumpling the pages. He’s sure it’s not from fear but from anger, because the name on that list pisses him off far more than anything else about this whole bullshit scenario.

“Michael,” Dean growls out, crumpling the paper into a ball.

He’s about to fling the wad across the room when Cas gently tugs it from his hands and smooths it back out on his lap. “ _The_ Michael? The one you... went to high school with?”

Cas kindly doesn’t bring up the fact that Dean had actually dated the guy. Once. It was _one date_. Hardly worth mentioning, aside from the fact that Michael had then spent the next year stalking Dean from the shadows until he went off to college. It wasn’t until he’d been away for a few months that Michael shifted his focus onto someone new… and then kidnapped the guy and kept him locked away as some sort of personal slave. Dean wasn’t sure on the details, and he didn’t really want to know. The rumors he’d heard were bad enough.

“I thought he was in prison,” Charlie says, frantically running another search. “Oh crap, he was released last week. According to his parole officer’s notes he spent Christmas with relatives in Montana.”

“But why is he sending _me_ these messages?” Cas finally asks. “I’ve never met the man. What interest would he have in me?”

“I think he’s working with a friend,” Charlie explains. “Someone who might know you. As in the person who’s been sending the local messages.”

Dean thinks about it for a second or two trying to puzzle out the seemingly incredible twist of fate that could’ve brought his… whatever Michael was… in contact with someone who apparently had some sort of messed up feelings for Cas. The sheer unlikeliness that after five years in prison, within days of being released Michael could’ve not only uncovered Dean’s role as the Fiance Anon on a relatively obscure little Tumblr blog, but _also_ found someone who knew Cas and his identity as Human-Bee-ing.

Cas, of course, is the first to make a few of the necessary connections and come up with their first working theory. “Our local connection could be someone Michael knew here in town before he left for college. From back when you were in school together. Perhaps they’ve been keeping tabs on you at his request, keeping him informed of your business.”

Dean has to look away from Cas and instead turns the hateful glare heating his face toward the window. His anger isn’t directed at Cas, but he’s blindsided by the intensity of his sudden fury. Whatever his face looks like in that moment, it’s more than enough to unsettle Charlie.

“Whoa, Dean,” she says, voice a little shaky as she tries to break the skyrocketing tension. “At least we know you don’t have any latent superpowers, or that window would’ve melted into a puddle.”

Dean lets her attempt at a joke calm him down enough to face her but he’s still nowhere near laughing. He takes the anger and deals with it in the way he does best, or worst, as the case may be. He tries to spread it around a little. “You know that means Michael’s little spy buddy could be someone who knows you too, Charlie.”

“That might be true, Dean,” Charlie snaps at him, “But for whatever reason, they haven’t been sending creepy messages to _me_.”

Cas looks back and forth between Dean and Charlie and he knows there’s old secrets that Dean has never shared with her. He also knows that Charlie, despite respecting Dean’s privacy on the matter, has always felt like she somehow let him down because of it; that Dean, for whatever reason, doesn’t trust her with the whole story.

Cas knows everything, though. Dean told him every last ugly detail about his history with Michael and this is definitely not the time to unpack it all for Charlie. He and Dean have made their peace with it, and currently they have more pressing problems to deal with.

“That is a valid point, Charlie,” Cas says, relieved when his seeming non-sequitur finally cracks through Dean’s anger. “They _haven’t_ been sending you messages.”

Dean shakes his head trying to figure out what Cas getting at and Cas smiles victoriously. Confusion is one of his more finely honed weapons.

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Cas gives a little half shrug and says, “If it was truly someone from your past, someone who knew you both back in school, they would’ve been aware of Charlie, and of her skill with computers.”

“Yeah,” Charlie says, stretching the word out. “Which is probably why they’ve been trying to cover their tracks, sending the messages from different locations even though they read like they’re all written by the same person. It’s kind of a pathetic attempt to hide their identities considering it took us less than an hour to pin half the blame for this on Michael.”

“Exactly,” Cas replies. “If the person working locally was familiar with either of you personally they would’ve tried harder to cover their tracks.”

Dean’s both mollified and a little defeated by Cas’s admission. “Well, that’s just great. Now we’re back to square one, with no fucking clue who this local person is.”

“That’s not entirely true,” Charlie says, exchanging an encouraging glance with Cas. “We know that they probably know Cas better than they know you or me.”

Cas nods along to Charlie’s train of thought. “Which means my original theory doesn’t hold water.” He looks at Dean. “So I must be the local person’s connection to this mess.” He waves his hand absently at the computers.

“That still doesn’t explain how Cas’s stalker and Michael became such good buddies in the last few days,” Charlie says. “Because that seems to be the real issue here.”

“No,” Cas says carefully. “I think the real issue is that a person we know to have a criminal record of violence and a troubling history with Dean is currently on an airplane headed to town after having sent threatening warning messages to us.”

That comment gets both Dean and Charlie to the edges of their seats.

“Oh my god,” Charlie says, checking the time before slamming her laptop shut in a fit of panic. “His flight lands in about forty minutes.”

“What the fuck are we supposed to do about it, Charlie?” Dean asks. “You wanna go meet him at the airport? Huh? Maybe make a little sign to hold up welcoming him home?”

“You don’t have to be an ass, Dean,” she replies. “I’m trying to help you here.”

Dean crosses his arms over his chest and slumps back against the cushions. He’s definitely not pouting. Cas leans in closer, pressing his shoulder to Dean’s and looking straight through the anger in Dean’s eyes.

“I’m scared too, Dean. I’m scared that we don’t know what to expect and that we don’t know how to prevent either of these people from acting on their threats.”

Dean deflates, all the anger leaving him in a rush. There’s nothing but their cold reality staring them in the face. Charlie sits quietly, watching the two of them as they settle into that realization. She bites her lip and then breaks the silence.

“I think we need to call the police,” she says quietly.

“And tell them what, exactly?” Dean rubs the hand not currently keeping Cas pressed to his side over his face. “We got some vague but creepy messages on the internet? It’s not like we can tell them how we figured out Michael’s involved.”

“Yeah, I’d appreciate not winding up in the clink for hacking a federal agency, thanks,” Charlie replies. “But you _can_ show them the messages. Let’s just say I have a few connections in law enforcement. I’ll make sure they take you seriously. And I’m not leaving here until I know you guys are safe.”

Cas smiles gratefully at her while she pulls out her phone and scrolls through her contacts. “Should I make up the guest room, then?” His voice cracks under the effort to make it sound like a joke.

Charlie looks up from her phone, takes in the obvious strain visible on her friends’ faces, and doesn’t even try to hide her own worry. “Hopefully that won’t be necessary, Cas.”

She finds the number she’s looking for and sends a series of quick text messages. Cas and Dean have nothing else to do but huddle together against the foreboding sense of doom until Charlie gives up and presumably calls the person she’d been texting to continue their conversation, since she just starts talking without any sort of greeting at all.

“Does he have time to deal with it right now, though?” is the first thing out of Charlie’s mouth. “Because this is like at least a DEFCON 3 sort of situation here.”

She hums agreement at something the person she’s talking to says, and then quickly relates the essence of their dilemma in a few short sentences, followed by, “So tell him whatever you need to, but just get both your butts over here. I’ll text you the address.”

She hangs up with as little fanfare as she began the call with and sends one final text before dropping her phone on the coffee table and turning a grim face toward Dean and Cas. She takes a deep breath and then starts explaining.

“Okay, so I have this friend who does a lot of what we’re gonna call consulting work for the government. I’ve helped him out once or twice with a couple of higher-level Federal things and met a couple of the FBI agents he’s worked with. But since Ash is actually on their payroll, I asked him to bring one of the agents over to explain your situation properly. And legally.”

“Feds, Charlie?” Dean asks, incredulous. “You think we need to bring feds into this mess?”

“Technically it would fall under the FBI’s jurisdiction, Dean,” Cas reminds him. “The threats were sent from several different states, and I believe crimes committed on airplanes also fall under federal jurisdiction.”

“I have no idea about all that,” Charlie says. “What I _do_ know is that Ash knows his stuff, and the agent he’s bringing with him is one of the best. And they both owe me a favor.”

“Great,” Dean says, rolling his eyes. “So we’re guaranteed the grudging assistance of two people who have more important shit to do than deal with a couple of online nutjobs.”

Charlie shoots him a glare as she slumps down into the couch and opens her laptop back up. “Make up your mind, Dean. Either this is a serious, credible threat to you, or it’s no big deal.”

Dean tries to cut her off with an apology but Charlie steamrolls right over him, jabbing a finger at their compiled messages. “No way. I’ve seen enough here, and I know Michael enough to know this is a bad situation. This isn’t a game to either of them. You can’t just control-alt-delete your way out of this.”

She starts typing away again, using whatever time she has left before her associates arrive to try to work her way backward from Michael to whoever his partner in town might be. The clicking of her keyboard is the only sound in the room for a minute before she speaks again, eyes laser-focused on her screen so she doesn’t feel so much like she’s putting Dean on the spot, even though that’s exactly what she’s doing.

“You know you’re gonna have to tell them everything, Dean,” she says quietly, with no anger or sting of hurt in her voice at all. “They’ll need to know why this is an urgent case. They need to know it’s not just something they can type up a report on and file it away for future reference.”

Dean sighs and leans a little harder on Cas. Cas holds him closer and whispers, “It’s okay, Dean. I’ll be here with you.”

Dean swallows hard and nods. “You shouldn’t have to go through any of this. Michael is all my fault. He wouldn’t be bothering you if it weren’t for me.”

Cas just shrugs. “He and I may never have crossed paths if it weren’t for you, but then again the other person who’s sending the messages may never have bothered _you_ if it weren’t for _me_. We’re both responsible for bringing something into this mess.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Charlie says, sounding absolutely appalled, staring at them in open-mouthed horror. “ _Neither_ of you is responsible for _any_ of this fucking bullshit.”

It’s not just the sudden one-eighty in her tone, but those last words that really get Dean’s attention. She couldn’t have shocked him more if she’d pulled out a gun and shot him. He blinks at her a few time and then says, “Charles? Is that you in there? Did you just say _fucking bullshit_?”

Charlie gawps at him for a second and then shakes herself out, sounding far meeker than her usual self. “Desperate times call for desperate measures?”

Dean shakes his head and finally cracks a smile. “Well, okay then. If it’s serious enough to get you to use the grownup words, then I guess it’s serious enough to rate FBI attention. You win. Happy?”

“Not as happy as I’d be if I didn’t owe a dollar to the swear jar, but yeah. Happier.”

“You know we don’t have a swear jar,” Cas replies with a tiny smile.

“It’s the principle of the thing, Cas.”

Charlie goes right back to work. There’s nothing more for Dean and Cas to do but wait and wonder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, it seems the anonymous messages thing is kinda similar to how we got started, but trust me, Dean's messages were never like these. But ignore me, I'm just trying to resurrect the dormant "comment on every chapter" thing I had going back in the original Project Beyonce. This isn't actually a chapter summary. It's more of a wink wink nudge nudge. Know what I mean?

It’s not long before Dean and Cas have both dozed off on the couch. Between the adrenaline finally burning its way through their systems and the quiet, rhythmic clickity-clack of Charlie’s keyboard, they take full advantage of the adrenaline drop and indulge in a moment of peace. Charlie is more than happy to give it to them and goes about her work while trying to pay as little attention as possible to the adorable picture the two of them make curled together at the other end of the couch.

The silence is broken when Charlie’s phone pings with a text alert letting her know that Ash has just arrived. She sighs and takes one last look at her two friends cuddled up and resting like they didn’t have a care in the world before gently nudging them awake.

“Come on guys,” she says, setting her computer down and getting up to answer the door. “The cavalry’s here.”

Dean startles awake and then tries to stretch and yawn without letting go of Cas, with mixed results. Cas returns to consciousness when he’s squished and pulled half way across Dean’s lap. He chuckles under his breath and pats Dean’s knee, standing up with the excuse that, “I should probably put on a pot of coffee.”

Dean’s about to get up and follow him like a lost puppy, but Cas pushes him down by the shoulder.

“I’ll be right back, Dean,” he says, and then leans in to give Dean a quick kiss before ducking into the kitchen.

Cas gets the coffee started and is back in the living room before Charlie is. He and Dean are standing together in front of the couch when Charlie finally returns several minutes later. She’s followed by a tall, confident gentleman in a standard-issue navy blue Fed Suit and carrying a thick accordion folder labeled “Angelus, Michael” in red marker, and a dude in torn flannel and a mullet who looks like he just lost his job as a roadie for an 80’s tribute band-- the effect only compounded by what appears to be some sort of modified guitar case he’s lugging toward the coffee table.

“Dean, Cas,” Charlie says gesturing toward each of them in turn, “This is Agent Victor Henricksen and Ash. Vic, Ash, this is Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak.”

Dean extends his hand toward the agent. “Thanks for coming,” he says. “We appreciate it.”

Victor shakes his hand and then Cas’s. “Ash said that some of Charlie’s friends had a situation, so the least I could do was look into it.” He smiles over at Charlie who doesn’t notice because she’s already helping Ash unpack what looks like several homemade computers from his case. Victor fondly watches the two of them for a second and then grows serious as he holds up the file he brought with him.

“Ash said this is the guy you think’s been threatening you, so I dug out his record. Based on what little of it I’ve had the time to look over, I’m glad you guys brought us in on this before it had a chance to escalate.”

Dean just nods and gestures toward the couch with a slightly shaky hand, when the coffee maker beeps in the kitchen. The noise startles Cas into action and he asks if anyone else would like some coffee, or anything else to drink.

“Can I get a soda or something?” Charlie asks.

Cas nods and then looks to Ash. Charlie has to nudge him with her elbow to get him to answer, but eventually he looks up from the blinking lights atop the computer he’s setting up, and then looks around at the other people in the room as if seeing them for the first time.

“Hey everyone,” he says looking between Dean and Cas and then nodding. “Ash. I also answer to Dr. Badass.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Charlie asks him, as Dean and Cas mutter out bemused introductions.

“Got any PBR?”

“Uh,” Cas replies, squinting at Dean and then at Charlie before turning back to Ash. “I think we only have Margiekugel at the moment, or I just made some coffee.”

“Coffee it is, then. Gracias, amigo.” And then he just goes right back to work.

Victor laughs and then smiles at Cas. “Coffee is fine for me too, thanks.”

By the time Cas and Dean return with their drinks, Ash, Charlie, and Victor are all set up and ready to go. With all the laptops and Michael’s file spread out on the coffee table, their mugs end up on the floor between their feet.

Charlie quietly catches Ash up on everything she’s already discovered on the computer end of things while Dean and Cas lay out a condensed version of their story for Victor. They explain how they met through Cas’s blog, and subsequently carried out their anonymous relationship for over a year before finally meeting in person. They cover their history of occasionally offensive or inappropriate attention in the form of anonymous messages to their blog, the lengths they’ve gone to trying to keep their identities private online, and then present Victor with the transcript of their recent threats.

While he reads through the messages, he has Dean and Cas compose a list of everyone they know from their blog who also knows their real identities. They’re still busy with that when Victor finishes reading and sets Cas’s laptop down on the table with a sigh and a disgusted look. The movement catches Charlie’s attention and she looks up from where she’d been reading over Ash’s shoulder, glancing nervously at Dean and Cas before speaking up.

“Hey, Vic?” she asks tentatively, tilting her head toward Dean and Cas. “You know there’s no way for them to list everyone who might know who they are from their blog, right?”

Victor shrugs and reaches down to pick up his coffee. “It’s a start, though.”

Charlie nods, but presses on. “Because they’re gonna list all their friends and family, and trust me, none of those people have anything to do with those messages. I know them all too. They’re just as much _my_ friends and family, and none of them would do this.”

Victor gives Charlie and approving smile. “You’re probably right. So who do you think we should be talking to instead?”

Charlie bites her lip and her eyes go wide before she turns to Ash, pointing at one of the computers and whispering something in his ear as she shifts over to pull something up on the screen. She shoots a satisfied grin at Dean and mouths _it’s all legal now that he did it_ , while pointing at Ash as he turns the monitor around for Victor to see.

Dean doesn’t even bother whispering his reply since everyone in the room, other than Ash, knows exactly what she was trying to say. “Real subtle there, Charles.”

Victor watches the bookstore security camera loop while Ash explains what he’s looking at.

“All the messages sent from Kansas originated in that shop. Those would be the ones from your biggest fan.” He shoots Cas a significant look, and then points at Dean. “The rest of them come from your old buddy in Montana, and that one he sent from the air a couple hours back. Flight landed about ten minutes ago at MCI, passengers departed from gate B52.”

Victor nods once, and then asks, “And you’re sure the last message came from someone on that flight?”

“As sure as God made quiche Lorraine,” Ash replies, before chugging down his coffee and setting the empty mug on the table.

Victor looks at Dean and Cas, and then at Charlie. “I don’t even want to know what led you to believe that Mr. Angelus might be on that plane, or why you think any of these messages might be from him in the first place.”

Charlie grins nervously, trying to look innocent but only managing to pull off something between mildly stunned and deer-in-headlights. Victor lets it slide with a huff of laughter and a shake of his head.

“You’re just too clever for your own good, Charlie,” he says. “You really should be on the payroll. It’d save you a lot of awkward moments like this.”

“I like to set my own schedule,” Charlie replies, the tension finally bleeding out of her. “Plus, my private sector work pays better.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Victor replies. “But I trust you walked Ash through your process enough for him to lay a believable paper trail that won’t cross paths with whatever… creative computing you did before we showed up?”

Charlie scoffs. “Don’t worry, Vic. You’ll be able to craft a full suit of dragon-proof armor out of our paper trail.”

“Right,” Victor replies. “Good.”

Cas sets down the pen he’d been using to make their list and gets Victor’s attention. Dean had long since given up on helping with the list and reclined on the couch with one arm flung across his eyes and the other resting heavily on the small of Cas’s back, but he sits up at Cas’s side, sliding his arm protectively around his back when Cas speaks.

“Considering the frequency and regularity of the messages sent from the shop, and the fact that they were sent over the holiday weekend, I’ve been considering the likelihood that they were sent by an employee.”

Without looking up from his computer, Ash holds one hand out toward Cas and makes the grabby hands motion. When Ash finally does look up and glances around at everyone staring back at him with confusion writ large on their faces, he sighs.

“Let’s see your short list of contenders,” he says. “And if that doesn’t get us a result, we’ll just take a closer look at the rest of your followers.”

Cas reluctantly hands over the list, the names of all the people he considers friends, or at least acquaintances that he talks to regularly. It feels a little like betrayal to even add them to a list of people who could potentially be sending them such hateful messages.

It’s Dean who cuts through the tension with a laugh. “You know there’s more than ten thousand people who follow Cas. If it’s not someone on that list, you got your work cut out for you, buddy.”

Ash immediately narrows his eyes at Dean and flips their list upside down on the table, hiding the names. “Is that a challenge?” He turns to Charlie with a smirk. “That sounded like a challenge.”

Charlie shrugs and then grins at Dean.

“Well, in that case,” Ash says, turning his computer around so it’s facing Cas, “You just log yourself in and give me,” he pauses, closing his eyes while his head tilts back and forth and his lips twitch like he’s running complex calculations in his head. He opens his eyes again and asks Cas, “You said ten thousand, right?”

Dean shrugs, but Cas is logged in now and opens the list of followers. It’s grown since the last time he’d bothered to notice it.

“It’s actually closer to twenty thousand,” Cas says, turning the laptop around to face Ash again.

“Everyone loves a good love story.” Ash stretches his arms out straight in front of him and cracks his knuckles like he’s about to hammer out a piano sonata rather than a bit of computer code. “Gimme… twelve minutes.”

Ash hunches down over his keyboard and tunes out the rest of the room, and Charlie glances over at Dean and Cas and shrugs. “This is his process. We’ve got about eleven and a half minutes, if anyone needs a bathroom break or a refill.” She raises her empty glass and gives it a little shake.

Without a glance away from his screen, Ash also holds up his mug until Charlie collects it from him and hands both to Dean. He rolls his eyes but heads out to the kitchen to put on another pot of coffee.

Victor and Charlie spend a few minutes talking _strictly off the record, right Vic?_ about how they discovered Michael’s part in the threats, before Victor turns to Dean to fill in the gaps in his own history with Michael.

“I skimmed over the case files and his prison record, but Charlie tells me you knew him before he ran into trouble with the law,” Victor prods.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut for a second, his breath stuck in his throat until he feels Cas’s hand slide down his back and come to rest around his waist. He lets Cas pull him in against his side and grabs hold of Cas’s knee to ground himself. He takes a deep breath, smiles over at Cas and gives his knee a squeeze in thanks, and then his gaze falls on Charlie.

She’s still sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Ash, but she’s staring down at the ragged cuff of her jeans, finding great interest in picking at an unraveling thread. Until Dean met Cas, Charlie knew more about his past with Michael than anyone else, but there were a few details Dean had always kept to himself. It wasn’t that he hadn’t trusted Charlie enough to share them, it was that she hadn’t needed to know the full extent of his humiliation and horror over what had happened. It was in the past, and he’d learned his lessons from the whole experience and moved on.

He couldn’t help but share the whole awful truth with Cas, but more than five years removed from the situation and without the looming threat of disapproval from his father, he could finally forgive himself for believing any of it had been his fault. He knows now that of everyone in the world, Charlie will understand why he never talked about it before.

He clears his throat and draws her attention. “Charlie?”

Her eyes go wide when she sees the look of resignation on Dean’s face. “You want me to leave? I can go,” she looks around frantically for somewhere to bolt, to try and give them some privacy. “I’ll just go…”

She jumps to her feet and turns to run up the stairs before Dean stops her. “Charlie, no. It’s about time you heard the whole story. Shit, if I’d said something back then, maybe the bastard would’ve left that other guy alone.”

“Dean,” Cas interrupts him, covering Dean’s hand on his knee with his own. “We’ve been over this. You are not responsible for his actions. You did not make him into the monster he is.”

Dean sighs and nods, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and fingers. “You’re right. I know you’re right. He didn’t do anything illegal with me. Being a creep isn’t an arrestable offence. I know, Cas.”

Victor looks back and forth between them and then clears his throat. “So, now that we’re all on the same page about that, what do we need to know about your relationship with Mr. Angelus that will help us keep you safe now? Because I know what this guy is capable of,” Victor thumps two fingers against the stack of papers on the table in front of him to prove his point. “And I’d hate to think he intends to do the same things to you, Dean.”

Dean shivers, and Cas squeezes his hand reassuringly. “Yeah, well, I never wanted to learn what he was capable of. I heard about the case, that he’d been arrested for kidnapping and assault and… whatever else… but I really didn’t want to know the details.” In a very quiet voice that Cas isn’t sure anyone other than him can hear, Dean adds, “Since it could’ve just as easily been me.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Cas whispers. “And it never will be. We’re going to put a stop to this right now, Dean.”

Dean steels himself, and then blurts out the whole ugly story as quickly as humanly possible. Charlie nods along to the parts she already knows, while Victor takes a few notes and tries not to interrupt now that Dean’s finally on a roll. Cas just sits by his side, holding him through it all.

Michael had been new to their school in eleventh grade, when his family had moved to the area from out of state. It wasn’t long before he’d tried to insinuate himself into Dean’s group of friends, and then gradually began to focus in on Dean exclusively.

Dean glances up at Charlie as he explains to Victor how Michael had begun to monopolize his time, and tried to ostracize him from his friends. If it hadn’t been for Charlie being her typical pushy self and forcing herself into his life at every turn, he’s sure Michael would’ve succeeded. Years later as he retells the tale, they share a moment of understanding. Dean will never be able to properly express his gratitude, but he’s pretty sure Charlie gets it when she has to look away to dry her eyes.

Dean talks about the single formal date they went on together, where Michael had tried his best to charm him into a second date. Fortunately for Dean, he hadn’t been so much _impressed_ by Michael’s persistence and professions of devotion, but _creeped the fuck out_. Michael had kept talking about how they were destined to be together, like it was some sort of match made in Heaven that they were powerless to resist. When Michael’s attentions escalated from a little handsy into the next best thing to assault in the parking lot outside the restaurant, Dean had fought his way free and called a cab rather than get back into Michael’s car.

When Michael called the next day to try and apologize for being so _forward_ , promising to make it up to Dean if he’d just give him another chance, Dean flat out refused. He hadn’t told his father that his evening out with Michael had been a date. In his mind, he’d just been testing the waters before committing to a relationship with another boy before it became necessary to sit his father down and formally come out to him. At the time, Dean had been almost relieved that things hadn’t worked out. Even thinking about telling his father that he might not be strictly straight had scared the shit out of him. He was sure that talk wouldn’t have ended well for him. All in all, Dean considered it a small blessing that Michael had turned out to be such a freak. At least, he did at first.

The next Monday at school, Dean was right back in with his friends, having spent the weekend apologizing to Charlie for ever letting Michael lure him away. They marathonned Star Wars and Buffy, and as far as Charlie was concerned, Dean was forgiven. The rest of his friends welcomed him back and Charlie gave them a watered down version of the story Dean had told her. The entire group refused to associate with Michael after that, and the following weekend Dean began to notice Michael following him around. The phone calls began shortly after that, and then the letters and gifts began arriving at his house.

John started getting suspicious and confronted Dean about why a boy was sending him love letters, and Dean explained that Michael was harassing him at school and had some twisted delusion that he was in love with Dean. Despite Dean’s pleas to Michael to stop calling, and insisting  that he wasn’t interested in him, the other boy persisted.

By the end of the summer, the love letters and gifts had evolved into threats and raving. His phone rang at all hours of the night with a continuous stream of text messages and emails begging Dean to reconsider. It got so bad he had to change his number and make all his friends swear not to give it to Michael.

When Dean met Cassie the following winter, Michael finally backed off. Dean wasn’t sure if he’d finally come to his senses and let it go or if he’d just given up when he realized Dean had finally moved on, but Dean didn’t care either way. Things were good for a while, at least until John passed away suddenly just a few months after Dean’s eighteenth birthday.

He’d missed a few weeks of school trying to plan his father’s funeral and simultaneously keep John’s business from going under. When Bobby and Sam convinced him to go back and finish out the last few months of his senior year, everything had apparently changed once again.

His relationship with Cassie had suffered under the strain of his new adult responsibilities. He had the garage to run, the house to keep up, and Sam to take care of. He did his best to keep Cassie involved in his life and swore to her that things would settle down once he graduated and had one less thing on his plate. When he returned to class, despite his continued relationship with Cassie, Michael resumed his campaign to win Dean’s attention.

One afternoon he’d cornered Dean in the parking lot and told him that the only reason he’d backed off was that John had been threatening him, but now that John was “out of the way,” in Michael’s words, they were free of his influence and Dean could admit his real feelings without worrying about what his father would say.

“At the time,” Dean speaks directly to Charlie now, “He almost made it sound like he’d had something to do with Dad’s death. I thought it was just more of the same bullshit he’d been trying to scare me with before. Dad died of a heart attack. It’s not like Michael could’ve caused his high blood pressure. A decade of too much alcohol and fried food took care of that for him. But the way he said it, it was like he _believed_ he’d caused it. Scared the ever living fuck out of me.”

Dean takes a deep breath, and goes on with the story. “I think he got to Cassie, too. She never admitted it to me, but that’s when she started to pull away and Michael started to push back. She still went to prom with me, but a few weeks later when I asked her about moving in with me after graduation she said she didn’t think it would be right. She accused me of only dating her to hide from my real feelings.”

“Oh, Dean,” Charlie says, reaching out to comfort him before letting her hand drop when Cas gives her the tiniest shake of his head, a subtle warning to her that Dean’s not quite finished.

Dean squeezes Cas’s hand and keeps going, the words pouring out of him in a rush after having been locked away for so many years. “She never said what gave her the impression I wasn’t completely serious about her. About us. And I was too busy having my heart ripped out and stomped on to really give a shit about the _why_ at the time. When she finally broke it off for good, she told me she couldn’t stay in a relationship that wasn’t real anymore. She said she knew I’d thank her someday when I finally accepted myself for who I am or some shit like that. She’d convinced herself that I was only with her so I wouldn’t have to admit that I was gay. I had no idea where she got that idea, but it was the last thing she said to me before she left.

“I’d never told her about Michael. It was in the past and that’s where I wanted it to stay. So it wasn’t until years later that I figured it out, that Michael was probably the one who convinced her I was lying to myself and that I wasn’t really in love with her. I should’ve demanded that she tell me why she thought that I wasn’t in love with her, but between trying to graduate, learning to run the garage, and still feeling  pretty messed up about dad’s death and suddenly being responsible for fucking _everything_ , I didn’t push. I let her go, and I blamed myself.”

Victor makes a few additional notes while Cas whispers reassurances and love into Dean’s ear, and it’s obvious that Dean’s finished talking. Victor gives them a minute to breathe and then asks Dean if he knows how to get in touch with Cassie. It’s Charlie who answers, though.

“She’s the editor at some local paper down in Missouri,” Charlie says, pulling up the paper’s website on her laptop for Victor to jot down her contact information.

“If it’s okay with you, Dean,” Victor says, finally looking up from his notes. “I’d like to call her and get her side of the story.” When he sees the look of panic washing over Dean’s face, he backtracks. “I don’t have to if you’d rather I didn’t, but knowing for sure that she broke things off with you because of something Michael said to her would help establish a pattern of behavior that dates back years. It would be just one more nail in his coffin, so to speak.”

“It could only help, Dean,” Cas says gently. “I know you don’t want to open old wounds, but we’re trying to save your life here.”

Dean thinks about it for a second, and then nods. “Yeah, whatever. Do it. It’s fine. What’s the worst that could happen? She’ll just remember why she dumped me in the first place. It’s not like she can dump me again.”

“No,” Cas says, with a strong note of possession in his voice as he pulls Dean in even closer. “You’re mine now. She lost her chance years ago. And I’m certainly not dumping you.”

Dean laughs and then hugs Cas back. “Yeah, no matter how we got here, I can’t really regret any of it. Heartbreak included.” He kisses Cas’s temple and then turns back to say something more when Ash suddenly jumps to his feet.

It startles everyone in the room except for Charlie, who makes an impressed little humming noise as she stops the timer she’d set running on her phone. “Eleven minutes and thirty eight seconds,” she says, holding up one fist for Ash to bump with his own. “Nice.”

Ash takes a dramatic bow and then flips his hair back over his shoulder before showing his results around the room.

“Rowena McLeod,” he replies. “She’s the only one in the store, or within wifi range of the store, when all the unaccounted for messages were sent.”

“Rowena?” Cas asks. “I know her. She helped me find a book once or twice, and always seemed to find me whenever I stopped in for longer than it took to order a cup of coffee. Is she really behind this?”

Ash shrugs and Charlie shakes her head while she runs a background check on Rowena.

“Okay, so if this Rowena chick is the person stalking Cas, then how the hell does she know Michael?” Dean asks, looking at the DMV photo Ash supplied with his search results. “Because I sure as hell don’t remember her from school.”

“Me either,” Charlie says, distracted by the results now streaming across her screen. “Because she went to school in Montana with Michael’s little brother.”

“Michael has a brother?” Dean and Cas ask in unison.

“Apparently so,” Charlie replies. “Huh. His brother Luke stayed behind in Montana with his aunt when the rest of the family moved here. He was in some sort of reform school or something like that. His juvy record’s sealed, though. But Rowena graduated from the same school as Luke, and it looks like they’ve kept in touch over the years.”

Victor crouches down behind Charlie so he can read over her shoulder. “So it’s likely that Luke here’s the common bond between both of your stalkers. But that still doesn’t explain how they partnered up so fast. Michael’s only been out of jail for a couple of weeks, and he hasn’t even been back to Kansas since before his arrest.”

Charlie shrugs and then hesitates, biting her lip and shooting Victor a worried glance. He just sighs and rubs one hand down his face before shaking his head and saying, “Yes, we’re still officially off the record, Charlie. Just show me what you found.

Charlie nods, puffing out a relieved breath, and pulls up a long string of text messages dating back several months. “This is totally not going to be admissible in court, but you really need to see this.”

“What am I looking at here,” Victor asks, as Cas and Dean both scoot closer to read Charlie’s laptop screen over his shoulder. He scrolls slowly through the messages and it soon becomes self-evident.

It’s a long string of messages between Rowena and Luke. At the beginning, most of them are general personal updates, but every so often there’s one from Rowena about Cas, about how she hasn’t seen him in a while, or how she was happy when he came in for coffee for the first time in over a week. Luke starts to tease her about her crush, and that’s when her messages begin to make it clear that she knows exactly who Cas is, and that she’s been following his blog for a while. Luke’s teasing gradually tapers off, and instead he offers her some advice on getting to know Cas better.

That’s when Rowena mentions the mysterious Fiancee Anon and Luke asks her if she’s ever seen Cas with anyone in the shop. She tells him no, but that certainly doesn’t mean anything. Luke then asks a series of questions about how much she really knows about Cas, and Rowena starts digging into his life in earnest.

“Jesus fuck,” Dean says, in response to a message from Luke encouraging Rowena to follow Cas home from the store to investigate for herself. He notes the date on the text message, just a few weeks after Cas moved in with him. “Has she been stalking us both for months?”

“Keep reading,” Charlie says glumly. “It gets worse.”

Charlie’s not wrong. It doesn’t take Rowena long to uncover Dean’s identity after that. When she mentions Dean’s name to Luke, he replies with an eloquent, “Oh shit,” and then doesn’t reply to Rowena again for over a week. When he finally sends another message, it ominously reads. “Oh, Rowena, you are going to love this. I think I know how you can finally get your hands on your man. His little fiancee has some history with my brother you might be very interested to hear about. Call me when you’re free.”

The messages pretty much stop at that point, but Rowena’s phone records show a sharp uptick in calls to Luke, culminating in a final call lasting over two hours a few days before Christmas, right before they sent the first message to Cas.

“Oh, crap,” Charlie says from where she’s looking something up on one of Ash’s computers.

“What is it, Charlie?” Dean prods when nothing more seems forthcoming.

“Michael.” She turns the screen around so Dean can see. “He’s at the bookstore, and I’m guessing that’s Rowena with him.”

Cas nods while watching the woman he recognized from the shop standing in line at the cafe counter with a tall, dark-haired man. The two seem to be carrying on a conversation in fits and starts, with the man-- Michael-- occasionally leaning down into Rowena’s personal space. Everyone in the room watches as the two gradually approach the counter and place their orders.

“It’s a shame we can’t hear what they’re saying,” Dean says after a frustrating few minutes.

“Can’t even see their faces from this angle,” Ash replies without even looking at the monitor, still absorbed in his own little project. “Or I could take a stab at lip reading.”

At that suggestion, Dean leans in closer to the screen and squints, trying to make out the few movements of their faces he can decipher on the grainy, low-quality video feed. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

“So what should we do now?” Cas asks. “It probably wouldn’t be prudent to confront them directly.”

“You know,” Victor replies, watching the pair as they take a seat to wait for their order, “That might not be a bad idea. Anyone up for an undercover mission disguised as an innocuous cup of coffee?”

“What, like dragging Dean and Cas down there and deliberately parading them in front of the two people who’ve been threatening them?” Charlie squeaks out, horrified. “It sounds like you want to use them as bait.”

“Not bait,” Victor replies, pulling out his phone and sending a few texts. “I’ll be right there with them, and so will you.”

Ash raises his hand and announces, “If it’s okay with everyone, I think I’ll take a pass.”

“Sure,” Dean grunts out. “Make yourself at home.”

“Much appreciated, compadre,” Ash replies, and then goes right back to work. “I’ll hold down the fort.”

Ash doesn’t see the bemused grin Dean levels at him, nor the exasperated look he exchanges with Cas. It’s probably for the best to leave the odd little man behind on an undercover mission, and he seems harmless enough. He also seems too focused on his work to cause any sort of havoc, especially since Dean doesn’t think they’re going to be out for much more than an hour.

“It’s Jody’s day off,” Victor says, smiling down at his phone as a series of messages come in. “She and her deputy are gonna meet us there in five. The mission is a go.”

“And that’s not gonna be suspicious?” Dean asks. “The whole lot of us trooping in there together like the world’s most eclectic coffee date?”

Charlie shrugs. “We could pretend it’s a meeting of our book club. It is a bookstore coffee shop.”

“Or we could just be a group of friends getting together for an afternoon,” Cas replies. “There’s nothing inherently suspicious about that.”

“I guess not,” Charlie says, looking a little dejected. “It’s not like I have six copies of the same book to use as props anyway.”

“Well if that’s all settled, Jody and Donna are probably halfway there already,” Victor says, standing up and buttoning his jacket. “If we’re gonna do this, we should get a move on.”

Dean gets to his feet, offering a hand down to Cas. “Why are we doing this, exactly?”

Victor grins like the cat who swallowed the canary and replies, “To stir things up and see what happens.”

Cas darts a worried look at Dean before turning back to Victor. “Are we sure that’s wise? We already know Michael is unstable, and Rowena is evidently in cahoots with him.”

“Dude, don’t say cahoots,” Dean says, handing Cas his coat. “Makes me think of Yosemite Sam.”

“Is that something this Sam has said?” Cas asks, glancing up at Dean while tying his shoes.

Dean fishes out his keys. “I don’t know, but it sounds like him.”

“I assume it doesn’t imply a positive connotation, then?” Cas says, following Victor and Charlie to the front door.

Charlie stops with her hand on the doorknob and slowly turns around, wonderment plain on her face. “Wait, you don’t know who Yosemite Sam is, do you Cas?”

Cas just tilts his head and squints at her, like if he stares hard enough he might be able to see the answer lurking inside Charlie's brain for himself. Dean shakes his head and puts a hand on Cas’s shoulder to get them all moving again. “We’re still working our way through Looney Tunes references. It’s an ongoing process.”

At Dean’s comment, Cas lights up with recognition. “Oh, he’s a cartoon character.” He turns back to Charlie and adds, “I had a rather sheltered early childhood.”

“Well,” Victor says, clearing his throat. “We can discuss wascally wabbits and puddytats another time. Right now we have somewhere to be.”

“Bugs Bunny and Sylvester the cat, right?” Cas says. “I understood that reference."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello again. It's your author speaking. Did you see the last two lines at the end of the last chapter? Between Victor and Cas? Yeah, about the Looney Tunes. I think that's officially the most meta thing I ever wrote in a fic. I literally saw little cartoon birdies dancing around my head after I wrote it. Then I flailed and immediately ran off to Tumblr to record the event for posterity. I'm still pretty damn pleased with it. *feels readers getting bored with my yammering* Well, okay then. Fine. Have some more drama. I'll be in the corner with my birbs.

The ride to Perks Books and Cafe takes less than ten minutes. Dean drives, with Cas in the front seat and Victor and Charlie in back. After Victor expresses his admiration for Dean’s beloved Impala, securing himself a general vote of confidence in Dean’s estimation, he explains his reasoning for _stirring things up_ , as he’d said.

“Jody and Donna will be on hand as witnesses to anything hinky,” Victor assures them. “They both work for the Sheriff’s department and they’re reliable witnesses. Not to mention they’d have the authority to intervene should the need arise.”

“It doesn’t seem likely that the need _would_ arise,” Cas adds. “I don’t know Michael personally, but from everything I’ve heard he doesn’t strike me as a stupid man. It seems unlikely he would say or do anything out of line in the presence of two Sheriffs and an FBI agent.”

Victor unclips his badge from his belt and tucks it into his jacket pocket. “Not if they don’t _know_ we’re law enforcement. Jody and Donna were out running errands when I caught them. They know the drill. They look like any two other civilians out for a nice afternoon cup of coffee. I asked them to go on inside and keep an eye on Ms. McLeod and Mr. Angelus until we get there, so they’re not gonna wave hi and yell out _Greetings Agent Henriksen of the Federal Bureau of Investigation_. And Jody promised she’d try to get a seat close enough to record whatever conversation they’re having before we get there.”

“Isn’t that illegal?” Charlie asks, turning to Victor with wide eyed shock, especially after he’s already handwaved so much of her own less-than-legal activity over the last hour or so.

He shakes his head and smirks with wicked delight. “There’s no expectation of privacy in a public coffee shop. They know they’re being videotaped by the security cameras all around the store, and if they’re talking loud enough that strangers in their vicinity can easily overhear their conversation it’s clearly not private in the strictest definition of the word.”

“Nice job squeezing through the legal loopholes,” Charlie says with admiration.

“I do what I can with the laws as they’re written,” Victor retorts.

“So what are we supposed to say to them?” Dean asks with a concerned glance at Victor in the rear view mirror.

Victor shrugs. “Nothing. Anything. Whatever you want. Just be yourselves.”

“Be ourselves?” Cas asks, turning slightly to look back at Victor. “I can’t imagine I have anything to say to either of them at this point.”

“I have a few choice words I wouldn’t mind saying to Michael, but none I’d care to say in public,” Dean adds.

“Then just ignore them,” Victor says, “And we’ll see what they do first. No matter what, try not to let on that you suspect them of being your stalkers. This is an observe and report mission only.”

“And if they start shit with us?” Dean asks.

“Then we’ll be ready to finish it,” Victor replies stonily.

Dean and Cas share an uneasy glance, but Cas stretches his hand out across the seat. Dean grabs it gratefully and lets that small reassurance ground him. No matter what happens, no matter what ugly things Michael might say or imply, no matter what Rowena has to add, he and Cas are good.

 

They stop a block away from the shop while Victor texts Jody to confirm Rowena and Michael are still inside and she replies a second later that they’ve just been served and have barely begun to eat. Knowing they have at least a few minutes to solidify their plans, Victor finds pictures of Jody and Donna on the Sheriff’s Department website so Dean, Cas, and Charlie will know who their allies are once they’re inside. Dean recognizes both women as customers at his shop and Cas recognizes Donna from a crossfit class he took for a few months the previous summer. It actually makes him feel at least eighty percent more confident about wandering inside. Donna was a standout in the class and he fondly remembers watching her outlast most of the rest of their classmates in the intense training sessions, all while maintaining her cheerful disposition. If nothing else, Cas trusts her to be able to handle herself no matter what transpires.

“So are you guys ready?” Charlie asks tentatively, leaning over the seat.

Dean turns to look at her and for the first time he remembers that she also knew Michael back in the day, and suddenly he feels selfish for forgetting that she might be just as ambivalent about seeing him again as he is. He tries to plaster a reassuring smile on and pats her hand where it rests on the seat back.

“As ready as we’re gonna get. We’ll be fine, Charlie. Are you sure you wanna do this? I mean, I don’t mind if you’d rather stay here, or maybe head over to the diner across the street and wait it out. You don’t have to see him if you don’t want to.”

At that, Charlie sits bolt upright, pulls her hand out from beneath Dean’s and slaps the back of his hand. She’s absolutely scowling at him, and her reaction takes him completely by surprise.

“You are a moron, Dean,” she says, glaring at him. “Of course I want to go in with you guys. You think I’d leave you at a time like this? After everything that asshat put you through? I’d never be able to look Hermione in the eye again.”

That brings a genuine smile to Dean’s face, but their little moment slips away when Victor reminds them that they’re still working on a limited timetable.

“Not to interrupt your weird geeky bonding ritual here, but if they finish eating and leave before we even get out of the car it’s not like we can track them on the Marauder’s Map and catch them conspiring in a secret passageway.”

Dean groans at that and shakes his head. “I expect it out of Charlie, but you too, Victor?”

“What, everyone loves Harry Potter.” Victor claps a hand on Dean’s shoulder and grins at him.

“Dean has certain issues with the films,” Cas gravely informs Victor.

“Well, then,” Victor replies, reaching for the door handle, “I suppose we’ve found a lively topic of conversation for our little book club meeting.”

“Why couldn’t you have picked on Arwen instead for once?” Dean grumbles as Charlie gets out of the car. “I got no complaints about those movies.”

Charlie rolls her eyes at Dean and heads toward the sidewalk with Victor while Dean slumps down in his seat a little bit. Cas tugs on his hand to get his attention.

“Dean,” he says, his voice as smooth and soothing as warm honey. Just the sound of his name dripping from Cas’s mouth makes Dean feel better. “We’re going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine. Just remember, no matter what, I love you. Nothing is going to change that.”

Dean impulsively reaches across the front seat and tugs Cas in close for a quick kiss, and so he can whisper thanks and love in Cas’s ear. “I know, babe. Love you too. Just don’t side with Charlie about the damn Chamber of Secrets again. No amount of magical mumbo jumbo is gonna convince me it’s not a fucking sewer.”

Cas can’t help laughing and gives Dean one last squeeze and a kiss on the cheek before getting out of the car. The shop is less than a block away from where they parked, but by the time they reach the door the four of them are conducting a lively debate about various points of interest in Middle Earth. Dean thanks his lucky stars for Cas leading the conversation toward the Misty Mountains and away from any potential sewer-related angst.

Victor opens the door to the shop and Dean and Cas follow Charlie inside. Dean has to steer her away from the New Release table and into the small restaurant area off to the side with the promise she can browse the books to her heart’s content after they’ve had something to eat. It’s only then, when his stomach rumbles as the smell of fresh baked bread and homemade soup hits his nose, that he remembers his abandoned lunch.

Cas hears Dean’s stomach complain and reaches over to pat it. “I’m sorry you never got to eat this afternoon.”

“It’s okay, babe,” Dean replies, throwing his arm around Cas’s shoulders to keep him close. He smiles at Cas and looks him right in the eye. “I was kinda preoccupied with something more important.”

“So I’m more important that lunch,” Cas says lightly, trying not to smile back. “It’s good to know where I stand.”

“Shut up,” Dean replies, reeling Cas in to plant a kiss on his temple. “You know where you stand.”

Cas turns a very earnest face toward Dean. “In line to buy soup and sandwiches,” he teases.

“Damn straight,” Dean replies before Charlie nudges him in the ribs with her elbow. “What?”

“Vic got us a table over there.” She points toward the window where Victor is setting a cup of coffee and a  cardboard sign with a large number four painted on it atop their chosen table. She holds up her own mug and a number five. She doesn’t need to point out Rowena and Michael sitting a few tables away, nor Jody and Donna a few yards beyond them, as she heads over to join Victor.

Dean lets Cas order for the both of them while he watches Charlie weave her way between the tables, passing directly in front of Michael and Rowena. She pretends to be preoccupied with traversing the maze of tables and chairs without spilling her coffee and sails right past Michael without acknowledging him in any way. Dean’s actually pretty impressed with her performance, but luckily Cas prods him to collect his mug before he’s caught staring at Michael.

Dean smiles at the cashier as Cas pays for their meal and is given a sign painted with a number six, which he pushes into Dean’s free hand.

“Your order will be out in just a few minutes,” the cashier says and then thanks them for stopping in.

Cas thanks her kindly and then glances up at Dean, giving him one last chance to back out of this whole deal. Dean takes a deep breath and nods. Cas rewards him with a small smile that’s almost as warming as the way he’d said _Dean_ back in the car and Dean hopes it’s enough to carry him all the way to the table where Charlie and Victor are waiting. He doesn’t even bother to glance over at Michael. He just isn’t ready to let go of that warm feeling from left over from Cas’s smile yet. Especially not when the alternative is the kind of cold horror he’s expecting to feel from seeing Michael again.

Unfortunately for Dean, the choice is taken out of his hands when Michael stands up as Dean walks past his table. He’d been so focused on watching Cas a few steps ahead of him that he didn’t even notice Michael scoot his chair back to block the aisle to block his way. Dean suddenly feels cut off from Cas, from all of his friends, just like he’d been back in high school.

“Dean Winchester,” Michael says, smiling in what anyone who didn’t know him might believe was a charming manner, and extending a hand for Dean to shake. “Long time, no see.”

Dean makes a show of doing a double take at seeing Michael again and then glances down at Rowena, quietly smirking up at him from her seat. Instead of juggling his coffee and the little cardboard sign, he just raises his cup in some sort of half-assed toast and watches with a sense of satisfaction as Michael frowns and drops his hand.

“It has been a while, Michael,” Dean replies, deciding on the spot to pretend he hasn’t spent a single second thinking about him since Michael left for college, which is true for the most part. “How’ve you been? I didn’t realize you’d moved back to Lawrence.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Michael replies. “I’m in town to evaluate my options, actually.”

Dean nods. “Well, I hope you find what you’re looking for, man. It’s nice to see you, but…” Dean waves the cardboard sign with their order number on it like that should explain everything.

“Oh,” Michael says, taking half a step aside and turning to face the table where Dean’s friends are waiting. He doesn’t move enough for Dean to squeeze past, though. “I see. Is that Charlie Bradbury?”

“Sure is,” Dean replies, glancing over at her and then at Cas, desperate for a refill of his boyfriend’s patented warmth. He settles for a sip of coffee, which will have to tide him over for now. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Michael doesn’t. He steps all the way in front of Dean again. “The two of you are still friends all these years later? How quaint.”

Dean can practically feel the ice in Michael’s voice. Of course he must’ve known it was Charlie’s influence that had been the last barricade to having Dean all to himself. Dean is hardly surprised it took less than three sentences for Michael to show his true colors yet again. Oddly enough, instead of intimidating him as Michael likely intended, Dean finds it gives him a new sense of strength. Unlike back in high school, Dean knows what it feels like to be loved, and whatever Michael wants from him could never compare to what he has with Cas. It’s laughable, really.

“Yeah, she’s like a sister to me,” Dean replies. “A sister who’s gonna be pissed if I keep her waiting too long.”

Michael sneers at that. “Sure thing, Dean. You still let her run your social calendar, too, I see.”

“Not exactly, Michael,” Dean replies, standing up straighter and looking the other man in the eye. “It’s just that I’d already made plans with her and Vic and Cas, and it would be rude to keep them waiting. You understand, I’m sure.” Dean gives a little head tilt toward Rowena, implying that Michael might be better off paying attention to his own date rather than harassing him.

Michael spins around, suddenly seeming to remember that he hadn’t been dining alone, and introduces her. “Ah, yes. Rowena, this is an old friend from high school, Dean Winchester. Dean, this is Rowena.”

“Well hello there, Dean,” she drawls, leaning back in her chair to look him over from head to toe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Any friend of Michael’s is a friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Dean grinds out between his clenched teeth, and barely resists adding that Michael’s hardly his friend.

Dean watches as the cashier carries a large tray of food over to his table, where Cas and Charlie seem to be arguing over which one of them is going to embark on the rescue mission to pry Dean away from Michael while Victor’s trying to placate both of them. Instead of waiting for a clear winner to emerge, Dean decides to rescue himself.

“Well, I’m sorry to cut this little reunion short but it looks like my dinner’s ready,” Dean says, inching forward again.

“Oh, Dean, why don’t you join us?” Michael says, sliding right up into Dean’s personal space. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town, and I’d love to catch up with you.”

“Like I said,” Dean replies, resisting the urge to back away and using his slight height advantage to look down at Michael. “My friends and I already made plans for the evening.”

“But you can see them any time, Dean,” Michael cuts in, reaching up to rest one hand on Dean’s shoulder. “This might be our last chance…”

Dean knows he should do anything he can to keep Michael talking, but he’s had enough. He’s done with being afraid of this douche and his creepy games. He glares pointedly at the hand on his shoulder and then back up at Michael. In a quiet voice he’s sure won’t carry as far as Jody’s tape recorder, he stares the other man down and says, “You need to take your hand off of me.”

Instead of backing down like a normal person, the demand seems to send a thrill through Michael and his whole face lights up at the prospect of a challenge. He glances over his shoulder at Dean’s friends, and Dean notices both Cas and Charlie are staring daggers back at them. When Michael doesn’t turn back to him, seemingly reveling in the anger he’s stirred up in Dean’s friends, Dean takes one long step back. It brings Michael’s attention back to him, at least, and also finally dislodges his hand.

“Dude, I asked you not to touch me,” Dean says when Michael frowns at him. “Good luck with whatever, but I’ll be going now.”

Dean takes another step back and then turns to navigate a different course between the cluster of cafe tables and chairs. As far as he’s concerned he’s done talking to Michael, and he declares the fishing expedition Victor had dragged him out on officially over. The second his back is turned though, Michael snaps and grabs him by the arm, pulling him around so fast that Dean’s coffee sloshes over the side of his mug and all over his hand.

He hisses a breath in as the scalding liquid burns the back of his hand. “Shit, man!” Dean yells. “What the fuck?”

He backs away once again, staring at Michael with a mix of hostility and puzzlement. Dean only makes it two steps before Cas is at his side relieving him of the half empty mug and pressing a napkin to Dean’s dripping hand. Dean chances a look away from Michael to thank Cas and that’s when he notices the look on his boyfriend’s face. It’s like Cas is channeling the wrath of Heaven, the fury’s practically radiating off of him. Dean half expects him to pull a lightning bolt out of his coat and hurl it at Michael. When Dean sees the effect Cas is having on Michael, he thinks the same thought may have crossed the other man’s mind, too, and he can’t help the satisfied little smirk that spreads across his face at Michael’s obvious unease.

Cas tugs at Dean’s hand again, and Dean takes the napkin from him, wads it up, and tosses it at the nearest trash can. Dean glares one last time at Michael, lets his eyes flick down to where Rowena has scrunched herself down in her chair to avoid becoming another target for Cas’s anger, and then lets Cas lead him away.

“Let’s eat, Dean,” Cas says gently, smoothing away the last of the dwindling acrimony. “The food’s getting cold.”

Dean grunts, glancing down at the remnants of his coffee. “Too bad the coffee wasn’t cold when that asshat spilled it all over me.”

“I told Charlie to order you another,” Cas replies with a hum, leading Dean away without another glance back at Michael. “Maybe this time you’ll get to enjoy it.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

It’s only when he’s sitting down at the table, glancing up from the truly delicious looking sandwich in front of him, that he notices Charlie staring at him in abject appalled shock.

“Catch any flies yet, Charlie?”

Her mouth snaps shut and she just shakes her head at him before peeking over at Victor’s phone. He’s texting furiously with someone for a few minutes while she nods along and makes a few murmured suggestions, before he finally puts the phone away and tucks back into his soup like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Dean still hasn’t bothered to look back to see if Michael’s still sitting there fuming silently in their general direction or if he gave up and left yet. When Cas reaches under the table to rest a hand on his knee, Dean realizes he just doesn’t give a shit what Michael’s doing right now. He’s got more important things he’d rather be thinking about. He smiles up at Cas, nudges him with his shoulder, and starts in on his long-awaited dinner.

They all eat in peace for a few minutes, until Victor finally breaks the silence.

“Dean, that guy is one creepy-ass motherfucker, and I’m not gonna lie,” Victor says, pushing his empty dishes aside to clasp his hands together on the table in front of him. “I think you both are in real danger.”

“Way to spread the sunshine around, Victor,” Dean replies, dropping the remains of his sandwich onto his plate. At least he got to enjoy most of his dinner.

“The good thing,” Victor says slightly louder and with a pointed look at Dean, scolding him for interrupting, “Is that from what I saw here tonight I don’t think we’re gonna have much trouble building a case against the both of them.”

Charlie nods enthusiastically at them and blurts out, “It’s enough to justify running down the IP addresses from your nastygrams. Officially and on the record this time.”

“Nastygrams?” Dean asks with a snort. He still can’t bring himself to take Michael seriously. The guy’s acting like a spoiled brat who didn’t get his way and Dean’s not going to be taken in by him again.

“I was gonna call them howlers, but we were supposed to be discussing Lord of the Rings tonight and it seemed off topic.”

“I appreciate you not bringing the Nazgul into it, then,” Dean replies with a laugh.

“Okay, nerds,” Victor interrupts. “I need you to focus on reality for a few more minutes before you walk into Mordor.”

“He’s calling _us_ nerds,” Dean says to Charlie, and she just shrugs.

“Donna headed out just before Michael and Rowena left,” Victor presses on, focusing on Cas and figuring it’s best to ignore Dean and Charlie for the moment. “She watched them drive off together in a white sedan registered to Ms. McLeod. Jody left just after them, and she and Donna will tail them until we can set up an official surveillance detail.”

Dean glances around at the otherwise empty cafe and wonders if their little scene had been disturbing enough to scare off the few other patrons who’d been relaxing at some of the other tables when they’d arrived. Cas presses Victor for more answers while Dean processes the whole surreal experience.

“We’re hoping to learn where Michael’s staying in town,” Victor continues at Cas’s request. “We know where Rowena lives, so hopefully we’ll be able to have officers in position in her neighborhood before she gets home, but at the very least Jody and Donna will stay with her to see if she drops Michael off somewhere else. I told them he’s our number one priority. With his history and after the scene he made in here tonight, Jody agreed.”

Victor takes a deep breath and gives Dean and Cas an encouraging look. “Don’t worry, guys. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. We’ve got this one.”

Dean’s a little taken aback because as far as he could tell, his encounter with Michael had been a little aggressive and borderline creepy, but the way everyone’s reacting to it is almost more unsettling to him than his run-in with Michael had been. Charlie and Cas, yeah, he can understand the two of them getting a little upset on his behalf; but the fact that two local sheriffs and an FBI agent are making such a big deal out of it makes him wonder if he missed something.

“Not to put too fine a point on this, but since when is getting manhandled into spilling a cup of coffee by an asshat with boundary issues reason enough to open a federal case?”

“To be fair, Dean, I understand you were too busy fawning over Cas riding to your rescue to notice,” Charlie says, ignoring Dean’s scoff. “But the rest of us were watching Mike and Rowena’s reactions instead of your little love fest.”

“I’m surprised steam didn’t shoot out the man’s ears,” Victor replies. “And Jody caught Rowena on tape saying some pretty derogatory things about the both of you.”

Victor checks his phone again and then sets it on the table to play the conversation back for them. They listen to the entire conversation and then hear Rowena’s muttered words that they’d missed the first time around in all the commotion.

_Oh my poor little bird, just a little bit longer and you won’t have to worry about that dog anymore. We have such plans for you. I’d rip his pretty face off right here, but Michael has other plans for him, and we made a deal._

Dean finds he’s squeezing the life out of Cas’s hand, and he doesn’t even remember grabbing hold of it. He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go entirely, and shoots Cas an apologetic frown as Victor pulls up another recording.

“Donna recorded this when they were walking to Rowena’s car.”

_You see how revolting they are together, right?_

Dean recognizes Rowena’s voice amid the traffic noises out on the street and the opening of a car door.

_I didn’t need to see it. I knew what to expect. First chance I get, next time Dean’s alone, I’ll take care of it._

And that was Michael. Then the car’s engine starts and the recording ends.

“Well that puts a hell of a spin on things,” Dean replies, chilled by the hardened determination in Michael’s voice.

“You are absolutely not going anywhere alone, Dean,” Cas says, squeezing his hand and pulling him close. “I don’t have to be back at school for another two weeks and until then I’m staying glued to your side.”

“I can’t close the shop,” Dean says. “I already took half the day off today. I’ve got projects scheduled and deadlines to meet.”

“At the very least you can let me drive you to and from work,” Cas says. “I’d feel better about it.”

Dean smiles at that. “Well, if it makes you feel better, then I can’t argue with that. My own personal chauffeur, and I get to ride in the beemobile.”

“She’s called Sting, Dean,” Cas replies airily to Dean's customary nickname for his car.

“That’s probably not a good idea, either, “ Victor says, cutting Cas off before he can say anything else. “If they want to get Dean isolated and find their attempts... frustrated, they could go after you instead.”

“That’s comforting,” Charlie replies, sinking down in her chair and hugging herself.

“It’s not meant to be comforting,” Victor says. “It’s a wakeup call, to all of you.” When Charlie gasps, Victor adds, “Yes, even you, Charlie. And your girlfriend, and any of your other close friends and family that Michael might know of. You should let them know what’s going on for their own safety.”

“Sam and Jess,” Dean says suddenly. “And probably Ellen and Jo, too. God dammit, this is bullshit.” He shakes his head and rubs his free hand down his face with a sigh.

“We should call them all as soon as we get home,” Cas replies.

“Do that,” Victor adds looking relieved by how well they’re coping with such seemingly outlandish instructions. “And it probably wouldn’t hurt if you can get a few of your friends to stay with you. You guys have an extra room or two in that big house of yours?”

Dean nods, wondering if he should call Sam right now and tell him and Jess to pack a bag and get their butts home. They’re still on winter break from school, just like Cas is, and Dean would certainly feel better if he could keep an eye on the both of them.

“We have room,” Cas confirms. “You and Gilda are welcome to our guest room if you’d like it, Charlie.”

She smiles fondly at Cas and then declines. “I think we’ll take our chances at our place for now. We both work mostly from home anyway, and we promise not to go anywhere alone.”

“Jo and Ellen are practically never alone, either, between the garage and the Roadhouse,” Cas adds.

“The Roadhouse?” Victor asks. When Dean nods, Victor adds, “I’ve been in there a few times. I’ll see if maybe your friends will let Ash set up shop there for the duration. If it’s someplace public that Michael knows you’re associated with, he might show up just to stir up trouble. And it’s the kind of place where Ash will feel right at home.”

Dean snorts, and nods. “I’ll give Ellen the heads up, then. Have her clear out the storage room for him to camp out in.”

Victor laughs at that and replies, “He’ll be happy if they let him crash on the pool table for a few hours a night.”

“I don’t think they’d mind giving him an actual bed,” Dean says.

Victor shrugs and then moves on again. “One last bit of advice, you might want to stop updating your blog for a few days. Let Ash and Charlie have access so they can deal with any new,” his eyes flick to Charlie and Victor smiles before saying, “Nastygrams. But you shouldn’t post anything personal that they might interpret as some sort of direct challenge.”

“But I have other friends I talk to daily,” Cas replies. “And won’t it be just as suspicious if I suddenly stop posting anything at all?”

Victor studies Cas for a second and then turns to Charlie for input. “I admit I don’t know much about Tumblr. I’ll defer to your opinion.”

Charlie bites her lip, glancing back and forth between Cas and Victor. She wants to give the right advice but she’s not sure what that is. All she has is her honest opinion, so that’s what she gives.

“Cas has a lot of regular correspondents,” she begins with. “Some of them use him like a support network, and just disappearing for a few days might needlessly worry them. Dean and Cas don’t have to post anything that might provoke Michael and Rowena, but they should probably try to keep their blog as normal as possible.”

Cas smiles at her, and Dean smiles at Cas smiling at her, while Victor mulls that over.

“If you say so, Charlie,” he relents. Then Victor leans forward and points at Cas. “But be very careful with what you say, and be ready to shut it all down if Charlie or Ash think it’s necessary.”

Cas nods, still a bit frazzled from the day’s events but determined to do what’s necessary to protect Dean and the life they’re building together. It’s Dean who still has a few questions.

“So while we’re all holed up for our own safety,” he asks Victor, “What’ll you be doing?”

Victor smiles, leaning back in his seat. “Keeping an eye on everything and pulling together enough evidence to bring them up on charges. Preferably before anyone gets hurt.”

He and Dean stare each other down until Dean finally relents, nodding. “Thanks.”

“That’s my job, Dean,” Victor says, pulling a card out of his pocket and handing it to Dean. “You call me, day or night, if anything changes, if you notice anything suspicious, or even if you just wanna chat. We’re gonna get you guys through this.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was harrowing, wasn't it? That's Michael's a pretty pushy bastard, eh? Well, I'm sure the worst of their problems are behind them now... *checks notes* Maybe not. This story's only half done.

Victor spends about an hour using their living room as a temporary base of operations, coordinating surveillance shifts with Jody and Donna and ensuring all the legal hurdles are cleared while Dean and Cas call everyone they know and give them the heads up. As predicted, Sam and Jess drop everything and are at the house in less than half an hour. Ellen and Jo agree to let Ash stay with them for the duration, and even Bobby considers making the trip down to keep an eye on everyone.

Dean calls all his employees and gives them the option to take some time off if they’d rather not get mixed up in his shit, but every last one of them refuses his offer and promises to be in for work when the shop opens the next morning. Cas calls the other professors in his department, who also throw their unreserved support behind him. Professor Cain even volunteers to keep an extra watch over Cas’s bees just to be sure they don’t become unwitting victims of his online stalkers.

By the time Victor and Charlie have caught Sam and Jess up to speed with what’s been happening, Ash is packed up and ready to head out. Charlie agrees to hitch a ride with Victor and Ash so she won’t have to drive home alone, and then suddenly the afternoon’s frenetic rush of activity comes to a grinding halt.

Dean and Cas show their guests out and then stand by the front door staring at each other in disbelief as the events of the previous six hours really sink in. It had started out as just another normal day-- Cas excited about being nearly done with his thesis, Dean excited about finishing his current restoration project ahead of schedule-- and then something so incredibly bizarre happens and suddenly everything normal gets tossed out the window.

“Everyone leave?” Jess asks, bouncing down the stairs just ahead of Sam. They’d gone up to take their luggage to Sam’s old room and get settled in for however long they might need to stay.

“Yeah,” Dean replies, finally breaking away from Cas’s stunned gaze. “Victor’s dropping Ash off at the Roadhouse and then making sure Charlie gets home safe. They’re gonna text us updates, as soon as they _have_ any updates worth texting.”

“Good,” Sam says. “At least you should be able to keep tabs on Michael that way and have a little warning before he shows up anywhere you might happen to be.”

“As long as he doesn’t plan on showing up here it shouldn’t really be an issue,” Cas replies.

“Or at the garage,” Dean adds, turning back to Cas. “You can bring your stuff and work out of my office.”

Cas smiles and shrugs. “If I can’t convince you to take a day off, that’s what I’m planning to do.”

“I just had a day off, Cas,” Dean groans. “I had several, between Christmas and then bailing half way through today.”

“I know, Dean,” Cas adds. “We have to keep up appearances. Speaking of which,” Cas says, sidestepping around Dean and planting a quick kiss on his cheek as he passes by. He heads to the couch and tsks in dismay at the state of the coffee table. His normally tidily organized research is still haphazardly stacked up on one edge of the table, and he only glares at it for a second before dropping onto the couch and pulling his computer onto his lap.

Dean watches Cas fondly for a second and is about to follow him to the couch when Sam speaks. It takes Dean a little by surprise, and then his own startled reaction takes him by surprise again.

It hasn’t been that long since Sam moved out but Dean’s already used to it being just him and Cas around the house. He’s started thinking of it as _their home_ , and it strikes him how strange it is that Sam’s presence feels foreign enough to throw him off.

“Hey,” Sam says. “We’re thinking of ordering pizza. You guys want any?”

It’s Cas who answers with, “We ate an hour or so ago, but thank you. You go ahead.”

“If you’re ordering from Benny’s, get me a slice of pecan pie,” Dean adds once he’s pulled himself together again. He can always pull himself together for pie.

Jess grins at him and then follows Sam out to the kitchen to take stock of the pantry. If all four of them are going to be trapped in the house indefinitely, they’ll all still have to eat. Living off delivery, even from Benny’s, will only appeal to Dean for so long before he’ll try to sneak out to the grocery store for provisions.

She and Sam loudly discuss the state of Dean’s kitchen, preparing a list of things to pick up while Dean’s at work the next day. Dean and Cas each offer a few of their own suggestions but quickly become distracted when Cas opens up his laptop.

Dean takes a seat next to Cas as Cas is closing out of the document with all their threatening messages.

“Good riddance,” Dean grumbles, sliding up next to Cas.

“Hmm,” Cas agrees, opening up Tumblr and scrolling through his dash, pointedly ignoring the new messages sitting in his inbox.

Dean just sits by him, reading over his shoulder as Cas adds a few random posts to refill his empty queue. They’re both feeling a little antsy about opening the inbox still, but it’s difficult trying to pretend they’re interested in anything else at the moment.

It’s entirely different to the usual sorts of nervousness they feel when the inbox has more than fifty messages. In the past, it’s meant their friends and fans wanted to congratulate them or ask them questions about their relationship. It may have felt a little invasive, but it was generally good-natured and friendly. It usually left them a little drained, but never physically ill the way the messages from Rowena and Michael do.

“We’re being ridiculous, Dean,” Cas says eventually, clicking the inbox icon. “At most there will be one or two upsetting messages. The rest will probably go a long way to restoring my faith in humanity tonight.”

Dean considers that while the messages load and then reluctantly agrees. “Can’t hurt to see.”

Cas knocks the side of his head against Dean’s shoulder, smiling, and then begins scrolling.

Some of the messages are cheerful belated holiday wishes, a few of which Cas replies to privately. There’s one from Gabriel thanking Dean for sharing his apple pie recipe, which was a big hit at the Christmas dinner he hosted. Most of the rest are the generic sorts of comments and questions they always seem to get; everything from the very basic _are you really a couple in real life?_ and disbelieving _you were really anonymous friends for over a year before you met each other?_ to _what are you doing for New Year’s Eve?_ and _when are you getting married_? The usual.

Cas compiles a few of the more commonly asked questions into a single post with handy links to the extensive FAQ posts he and Dean made months ago after they finally got together. It takes care of the majority of the messages, leaving just a few with questions they’re really not sure how to address. Much to their relief, there don’t seem to be any new threatening messages. At least not yet.

The doorbell rings, startling both of them when Sam bolts out of the kitchen to answer it. Cas and Dean look at each other for a second and then crack up. Sam pops back into the living room, pizzas and Dean’s pie in hand, and sees them giggling.

“Dude, what’s so funny?”

“We forgot you were here again,” Dean says as Cas makes a face and shrugs apologetically.

“Huh,” Sam says, looking down at the stack of boxes in his hands. “Then you probably forgot I ordered pie for you, too. It’s okay. Jess and I will be happy to eat it.”

“Oh, hell no,” Dean replies, jumping up so fast he trips over Cas’s feet in his rush to claim his prize.

With the pie box rescued from atop Sam and Jess’s pizza, Dean dashes into the kitchen for a couple of forks and then squeezes past Sam in the doorway on his way back to the couch. He takes a moment to shout _Thanks, Sammy_ in the general direction of the kitchen before opening the box on his lap and handing Cas a fork.

“Dig in, babe,” he says, scooping up the first bite of gooey pecan. “S’not as good as mine but at least I didn’t have to make it.”

Cas contentedly watches him eat for a moment and then helps himself to a bite. The pie is gone in minutes, and Dean’s happier and more relaxed than Cas has seen him since this morning before their lives were shot to hell. Just watching him has a soothing effect on Cas as well, and he soon finds himself thinking about happier subjects, including one brought up in one of their as of yet unanswered messages.

“What _are_ we doing for New Year’s Eve?” Cas asks as Dean slides the empty pie box onto the table and settles back onto the couch.

Dean shrugs. “I don’t know. I mean, we don’t usually do much. It’s not like Thanksgiving or Christmas where we have a traditional _thing_ we all get together for. If we don’t have other plans, Sam and I usually head over to the Roadhouse to help Ellen out. New Year’s is a big night for her.” Then he looks at Cas, wondering if he’s said the wrong thing. “Why, was there something you wanted to do?” When he sees the pleased look on Cas’s face he stops worrying.

Cas points to the message in question and replies, “No, this just got me thinking.”

Dean lets himself relax again, draping one arm over Cas’s shoulders and dropping a kiss in his hair. “Well if you think of something you’d rather do, just say the word. If you don’t mind helping out at the Roadhouse I’m sure Ellen would be happy to have us, too.”

“I think I’d like that,” Cas replies, getting comfortable and burrowing in closer to Dean’s side. “It seems fitting to start the new year in the place that brought us together.”

Dean is surprised to hear that Cas thinks of the Roadhouse that way, since it never occurred to him before. The Roadhouse has always been a part of his life ever since he can remember, but it’s a place Cas only knows through Dean. It’s where Cas went when he decided to take the first step toward bringing their anonymous online relationship into the real world. It also occurs to Dean that it’s technically where they had their first date too, embarrassingly enough right under Ellen and Jo’s noses.

So much has happened in the nearly three months since then that their missed connection at the Roadhouse feels more like a memory from years in their past. They finally met face to face two days later, and within a week Dean had asked Cas to move in with him. Not to mention baked him a pie and built him a car. Dean’s still marveling over the fact that he hadn’t scared Cas off by the end of that week. Both of them had fallen into their relationship with an ease that Dean is finally beginning to trust.

Dean finds himself staring off into space, thinking about the ring he’d bought impulsively more than a month ago, now tucked carefully into his filing cabinet at work, hidden in the last place anyone but Dean would ever think to look for _anything_. He’d stumbled across it entirely accidentally while trying to find bee themed Christmas presents for Cas and he'd ordered it without hesitation. The broad hammered silver band inlaid with a tiny golden bee was too perfect to pass up, even though the thought of getting down on one knee and actually asking Cas to marry him still leaves his heart racing and his hands all cold and clammy. Dean has always thought of himself as the Fiance Anon, even back at the beginning when it was nothing more than a one-off joke from a complete stranger, but making the title real and asking to become the Fiance Evidenced still leaves him feeling wibbly and a little bit sick.

Ever since the package arrived weeks ago, he’s been flirting with the idea of giving the ring to Cas as a graduation present in June. Three months is still a laughably short time to go from first date to be-mine-forever, and waiting another few months had seemed sensible when Dean first bought the ring. It’s not that he has any doubt that he wants to spend the rest of his life with Cas, but he reasonably decided he’d need at least six months to psych himself up enough to actually do the deed.

Dean shakes off his daydreaming when he notices Cas replying to the New Year’s Eve question with a rather generic but entirely truthful _We’re spending it celebrating with family and friends_. No sooner does he post his reply than another new message pops up, and all the good feeling that had been growing inside both of them is drowned out in an instant to be replaced by another rush of sickening cold.

It’s not fear that their stalkers have inspired, per se. It’s more of an exhausted sense of dread, that these people have taken such an interest in their lives and have built up this fantasy that they know better than Dean and Cas themselves what would make them happy. Which is just six kinds of deluded bullshit and is beginning to leave Dean more angry than anything else.

He and Cas have been talking about their online identities for a while now and wondering if they should be a little more open about who they really are on the blog. Cas was able to uncover Dean’s identity just from reading his anonymous messages, and Dean was eventually able to do the same with Cas (with a little help from Charlie, Sam, and Jess, but he could’ve done it on his own if he hadn’t been so worried about wrecking a great friendship by overstepping his boundaries. Lesson learned). They never actively hid their identities, but they never posted any overt mentions, either. The closest thing they’ve posted to a selfie is a cute series of pictures of their feet.

But now, with strangers intent on breaking them up and an ex trying to use their anonymity against them, Dean seriously wonders whether it would be any worse to be completely open with their followers. He’s pretty sure it wouldn’t, considering Michael and Rowena had found them anyway. He reads the message again and shudders.

_My bumblebee, I am here for you. It won’t be long now until we’re free to be together. I’m still watching over you, never forget that. I will come to you in your time of need. It’s been so long since you replied to one of his messages, so I think it’s time I took on the Fiance Anon title. Here’s to us finally meeting in person, sooner than you can possibly imagine, my love. I long for the day when we can finally know each other completely._

Cas copies and pastes the chilling words into their depressingly growing document and shudders at the references to the exchange with Dean that led to their first meeting, sans sociopathic overtones. Dean pulls out Victor’s card and gives him a call. Before Victor even answers, there’s yet another new message in their inbox, this time from Ash. As weird as it is to realize someone they barely know is monitoring everything they’re doing online, it’s startlingly reassuring to know that Ash is competently doing his job and looking out for them.

“Hola mi amigos, I saw your latest nastygram and traced the IP address to the Cloud Nine Motel. Sheriffs Mills and Hanscum are already sitting on the place. It seems Rowena and Michael are still holed up there, and everyone on the surveillance team has orders to text you if they leave their room for any reason. Just a heads up, and a reminder not to feed the trolls. Leave that to the billygoats. Dr. Badass, out.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Cas mumbles as Victor answers the phone and Dean switches it to speaker.

“Ash just texted me,” Victor replies without bothering with any sort of formal greeting. “He saw the message and he’s taking care of it.”

Dean and Cas are too stunned to say anything for a second or two, just long enough for Victor to finally say. “Hello? Dean? You guys there?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean answers and then clears his throat. “Yeah, we’re here.”

Cas takes over when Dean fails to contribute anything further to the discussion. “Yes, Victor. We already have a message from Ash with all the details.”

“Oh yeah, he’s proactive,” Victor replies with a chuckle. “You guys are in good hands. Don’t worry about a thing. Just stick to the plan, don’t wander out alone, and unless you have any questions or anything else comes up, I’ll check in with you tomorrow.”

“Um, thanks man,” Dean says. “Goodnight, I guess.”

“Yeah, try to get some sleep. We’ve got these guys pinned down like butterflies. They’re not going anywhere for now.” Without another word, Victor hangs up.

Yet again, Dean and Cas are left speechless and slightly confused, if not entirely reassured. Leave it to Charlie to be friends with the most efficient set of law enforcement professionals they could hope to know. Despite the cringing horror that this is happening to them at all, it’s a relief to have so many good people on their side.

Sam and Jess, drawn out of the kitchen by the phone call and the promise of new information, hover behind the couch reading the new messages over Cas’s shoulder.

Sam stands up after a moment, and says, “Wow, it looks like they’re really on the ball with this.”

“Guess that means we can rest easy, at least for tonight,” Jess says, trying to sound enthusiastic. When that fails to cut through the tension, she asks, “So, anyone up for a movie? We have popcorn and everything.”

Sam slides up next to her and bumps her shoulder with his own. “I am,” he says, watching Dean and Cas blink at each other a few times before assuming they’re not really up for much of anything. “If you guys don’t mind us taking over the tv, that is.”

Dean glances up at Sam, then over to the television, and then at Cas, who shrugs half-heartedly. “Nah,” he says, keeping his attention on Cas. “I think we’re about done for the night. You guys can have the room. Just remember this ain’t your apartment, so don’t do anything funky to our couch.”

He can’t seem Sam, but Dean knows he’s rolling his eyes. His comment does make Cas smile and that’s all he really cares about tonight. At least he’s got one nice memory to take away from this otherwise bullshit day.

“Gross, Dean,” Sam says as Jess grabs a throw pillow and makes it live up to its name, sending it flying into the side of Dean’s head. “We’re not _you_.”

“In that case,” Cas says, closing his laptop and sliding it and his stack of notes unceremoniously into his satchel, “We should probably get out of your way.”

“We didn’t mean to chase you guys out of your own living room,” Jess says. “It’s not even nine o’clock yet.”

“It’s been a strenuous day,” Cas replies, standing up and pulling Dean up by his hand. “And I, for one, am exhausted. Thank you both for coming to stay with us, though. I know we’ve interrupted your lives as much as you feel you’ve interrupted ours, and I appreciate it.”

“Same here,” Dean says. With a hard big-brotherly glare at Sam he adds, “And if we don’t see you guys in the morning, please remember not to do anything too stupid, okay? I don’t know if it would’ve been safer to send you both to fucking Siberia or some shit or to bring you here and dangle you right in front of their noses. So please, be careful, okay?”

Sam nods solemnly, feeling the weight of his promise. “We will, Dean. You too, right? No stupid shit. You guys stick together tomorrow.”

“You can count on it, Sam,” Cas replies gravely.

Dean nods once now that that’s all settled and tugs at Cas’s hand.

“Night, guys,” Jess calls out as they reach the stairs.

“Night,” Dean calls back without turning around, as Cas smiles and follows him up to their room.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, folks. There's a little bit of everything in this chapter. *and this is where the smut-adjacent stuff happens* *and by smut-adjacent, I mean vaguely described shower sex* Lots of other exciting things happen, but then Things Go Rapidly Downhill.

As soon as the bedroom door shuts behind them, Dean begins peeling out of the clothes he’d thrown on that morning. He normally changes out of his grungy work clothes the minute he gets home but he’d been too distracted to care that he was still wearing the sweaty and stained t-shirt and jeans he wore under his work coveralls.

He tosses his dirty shirt at their laundry basket and then pauses unbuckling his belt to watch Cas absently unbutton his own shirt. When Cas catches him looking, he smiles and turns to give Dean a little more of a show. Cas slowly pops open the next button, running his fingers down the already exposed skin of his chest, teasing his shirt open. Dean realizes he’s been caught and forgets about everything else except the look on Cas’s face. He closes the distance between them without thinking and slides a hand into the widening gap of Cas’s shirt, wrapping his hands around Cas and drawing him in for a kiss.

Cas lets him have his way for a minute or two and then gently starts steering Dean backward toward the bathroom. Dean lets Cas push him, and helps Cas out of his shirt the second the final button is undone. The second Cas’s shirt hits the floor, Dean plants his feet and refuses to budge another inch until he’s taken the edge off his skin hunger, holding Cas against him as he runs his hands over every inch of his exposed body.

They pull apart after a few minutes to catch their breath and Cas steps back far enough to kick off his shoes.

“I changed the sheets after you left this morning,” Cas says, wrinkling his nose. “You’re not allowed in bed until you shower.”

“What, you don’t like my musk all of a sudden?” Dean asks, teasingly, even as he bends down to untie his boots.

“There is a substantial difference between _your musk_ and the lingering hint of burnt motor oil and shop floor grime that’s clinging to you right now.”

Dean frowns and sniffs at himself. “Hey, I don’t smell all that bad. Do I?”

“No Dean,” Cas laughs. “But if you ignore my attempts to goad you into the shower a third time, you’ll be showering alone.”

Dean stands up and toes off his unlaced boots and blinks at Cas for a second while that sinks in. “Well, when you put it like that.” He grabs Cas by the hand and practically drags him into the bathroom.

They fumble their way out of their remaining clothing as quickly as they can while the water warms up and then they’re tripping into the tub together. They cling to each other under the warm water, hands sliding over slick skin under the flimsy pretense of getting each other clean. Cas at least makes a halfhearted attempt at it, picking up a bar of soap and dragging it from Dean’s neck down to his hip before Dean growls and pounces on him. Cas drops the soap when his back hits the cold tile wall, pinned in place by Dean.

“Later,” Dean rumbles in his ear, punctuating his words with kisses. “Dirty first, then clean.”

Cas can’t do anything but nod, tilting his head to give Dean better access to his neck. He slides his hands down Dean’s back, pulling their bodies flush. Dean is focused on one gloriously sensitive point just above his collarbone, sucking and biting a mark into the tender skin and driving Cas wild. The heat of Dean’s shower-warmed skin is a relief compared to the cool tile at his back and he pulls desperately at Dean trying to hold him impossibly closer.

Cas hears his own groan echo around the room and that’s when he snaps. He remembers they shouldn’t be making so much noise with Sam and Jess in the house. Recalling the reason for their presence, the entire day floods back to him and suddenly nothing can be close enough. He presses his face to Dean’s shoulder and grips him that much tighter, one leg sliding up to hook over Dean’s hip to keep him from slipping away.

Dean feels the zing of tension jolt through Cas. The stress of their day had been shed with their clothing, the last of it washing down the drain in the first rush of warm water. Dean can tell it’s returned with a vengeance, with Cas’s fingers practically clawing at his back and his sexy, rumbling groans replaced by soft, desperate moans that are nearly drowned out by the sound of the shower and almost muffled entirely by the way Cas is breathing them directly into the side of Dean’s neck.

Dean doesn’t try to put any space between them since Cas clearly is in no mood to let him go. In an effort to keep his boyfriend from freaking out any further, Dean ends up trying to start a conversation with his hair, since it’s practically the only part of Cas he can see.

“Cas, babe. Hey,” he starts out barely louder than the noises Cas is making. Dean slides one hand up to rest on the back of Cas’s neck, reassuring him that he’s not going anywhere. “Hey, talk to me.”

Cas makes a sad, defeated sound and kisses Dean’s neck once before taking a deep breath. Dean feels his shoulders slump before Cas raises his face and kisses Dean soundly on the mouth. He pulls back a second later and sighs, looking Dean in the eyes.

“This is my fault,” Cas says.

He’s about to go on, but then Dean registers his meaning and cuts him off.

“Bullshit.”

“Rowena, for whatever reason, believed we had some sort of relationship based on a few offhanded conversations we’ve had at a bookstore. She discovered my blog. She gave Michael the information. That’s how he was able to get to you, Dean. Through me. _Because_ of me.”

Dean stands there blinking water out of his eyes for a second as that settles in. A fierce flash of anger crosses his face and then he’s on Cas, trying to kiss the stupid train of thought out of his head, as if he could dig out the poisonous kernel that spawned it with his tongue. It must work, at least a little bit, because they’re both breathless when he finally pulls away again.

“I’ll say it again, Cas. That’s bullshit. Michael is a dick. He’s always been a dick. If he wanted to fuck with me, he’d have found a way.”

“I should’ve tried harder to conceal our identities,” Cas tries again, still trying to claim full responsibility.

“Fuck,” Dean replies, rolling his eyes before grabbing Cas’s face between both hands and staring him down. “It’s almost pointless trying to hide on the internet, Cas. I said I didn’t give a shit about staying anonymous right from the start. Remember the great selfie debate?”

Cas can’t help the tiny smile the memory brings to his face. One of their first decisions as a couple, since their entire courtship had played out on Cas’s Tumblr blog for the whole world to see, was setting the boundaries for what they were willing to reveal about themselves now that they’re together. Cas had never posted anything more personally identifying than a photo of his hands before, and somehow their joking debate led to the first picture they posted together being of their entwined feet. Over the last few months it’s become their standard self-portrait. Dean’s got an entire album on his phone of pictures of their feet tangled together in all sorts of strange locations, everything from their booted feet sticking out of a pile of freshly raked autumn leaves to their sock-clad feet kicking through shredded wrapping paper on the living room floor on Christmas morning.

They both find themselves glancing down at their wet feet now and Dean can’t help the low and dirty laugh.

“Wish I had a picture of this for the private collection,” he says, raising an eyebrow suggestively at the reminder of all the pictures of their feet that didn’t wind up on their blog, most of them tangled in rumpled bedsheets and taken by Dean to commemorate particularly memorable evenings.

Cas finally lets go of the last of his fear and smiles, grinding his hips against Dean’s as those memories leap to the forefront. It almost distracts Dean into picking up where they left off before all the talking started but he needs to make sure everything is clear between them first.

“We didn’t cause this, Cas. We don’t deserve it, and no matter how much personal shit we put online, we didn’t make them react the way they did.”

Dean studies Cas’s reaction from inches away until Cas nods.

“Good,” Dean says, coming to another conclusion. “And I’m sorta grateful, you know? If Rowena hadn’t been all heart-eyes for you and stalking your blog with all those messages, we might never have got a heads up that Michael was back in town. We wouldn’t have had anyone watching our backs.”

“Oh god, Dean,” Cas says, as a shiver of pure horror runs down his spine. “He could’ve gotten to you anywhere and I might never have known.”

Dean shrugs and then holds Cas tighter. “So yeah, do not take any of the blame for this fuckery on yourself, you hear me? I don’t blame you.”

Cas squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and then opens them to find Dean still staring at him, eyes both pleading and adoring, and it’s a monumental relief. “I love you, Dean,” he says, finally ready to let it go. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Dean replies, when for the second time that evening a flash of thought returns to the ring in his drawer at work. He lets distraction of the water and steam and the friction of Cas’s slick, heated skin stop him from blurting out a proposal right then and there. It’s a near thing, though. It’s only after several long minutes when Cas finally reaches down between them to grip them both tight that he finally pushes the thought aside in favor of the whiteout bliss Cas has become an expert at wringing out of him.

Once they’re dried off and snuggled together beneath the blankets, it occurs to Dean that he can’t even recall whether or not they ever got to the soap-and-shampoo portion of their shower. He gives the side of Cas’s head a little nudge with his nose and he smells clean enough, so he figures they must’ve. Dean decides he doesn’t really care either way when Cas rolls into his arms with a content hum and they exchange slow, lazy kisses until they’re nearly asleep.

A bang on their door earns a snarl from Cas and a shouted, “Fucking what?” from Dean.

It’s Jess who replies, “Thanks for using all the hot water. Some hosts you guys turned out to be.”

Dean’s about to shout something rude back at her when Sam chimes in with, “And next time maybe try the cold shower so we don’t have to listen to you.”

“Nobody said you had to listen,” Dean growls back.

“Dean, your bathroom is a fucking echo chamber,” Sam replies. “It sounded like you threw a half a dozen rabbits in the washing machine for a rinse and spin. I’m gonna have nightmares about oversexed fluff-and-fold bunnies now.”

“You’ll live, Sammy,” Dean grumbles out.

They hear Sam and Jess’s laughter fade as they move off down the hall to Sam’s old room. Minutes later, after an additional round of therapeutic making out, they finally drift off to sleep.

 

The following morning Dean and Cas are both up early. Dean guesses it’s due to a combination of nerves about leaving Sam and Jess alone at the house while he and Cas are away for most of the day, worry that bringing Cas with him is only painting a target on his boyfriend if Michael somehow slips past the police keeping watch over his motel and finds them together, and a twisted version of depraved Christmas morning style anticipation that refuses to let them sleep any longer.

Breakfast is a little tense but by the time Dean’s opening up the shop and welcoming his first customers, Cas is happily settled in Dean’s office and completely wrapped up in his own work. The rest of the morning flies by and it’s not until Dean heads into his office for their lunch break that they’re reminded of their little situation. The sheer novelty of getting to spend his break with Cas is enough to override the ominous reason behind it.

“We should do this more often,” Cas says when they’re spending a few minutes cuddled up on the tiny couch in Dean’s office after they’ve finished eating. He curls one hand around Dean’s thigh and leans in close for a kiss.

“Kinky,” Dean replies, scratching his fingers across the back of Cas’s neck. “I didn’t know my dingy little office was such a turn on.”

Cas snorts into his mouth and then gives him a quick peck on the lips in apology before standing up and stretching. “No, I meant having lunch together you pervert. This couch does nothing for me. It’s lumpy and barely big enough to hold us both.”

“I don’t know,” Dean replies with a look of pure evil mischief, grabbing at Cas’s waist where the hem of his shirt has ridden up exposing his hip. “I think we could make it work.”

Cas laughs outright now, swatting Dean’s hand away and edging around the desk in the cramped space. “Right, and traumatize all your employees the way we did your brother last night? I don’t think so.” He catches Dean’s look of mock disappointment as he sits at the desk, and smiles softly. “Besides, we’re here to work, so go out there and get all greasy and I promise to give you a good scrubbing when we get home tonight.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Dean replies with a cocky grin, leaning across the desk for one final kiss.

Just as he’s about to get his reward, his phone buzzes in his pocket and he loses his balance and nearly faceplants into the stacks of notes Cas has laid out across his desk. After a quick fumble beneath his protective coveralls to pull his phone out, he catches the call just before it would’ve transferred over to voicemail.

“Yeah, hello,” he answers and switches it to speaker when he sees it’s Victor calling.

“Dean? It’s Victor. Nothing urgent, just calling to let you know everything’s holding steady on our end out here. How are you guys holding up?”

“Honestly? We’re just fine,” Dean says smiling at Cas and then catching a glimpse out the corner of his eye of the file cabinet drawer where the ring is hidden. He nearly loses his cool seeing Cas sitting _right there_ , less than a foot away from it, smiling up at him and completely clueless about the reason for Dean’s sudden bumbling loss for words. Dean awkwardly clears his throat when he notices Cas’s smile dip into a little frown and croaks out, “Uh, yeah. Fine.”

“You sure about that?” Victor asks.

Dean nods and of course Victor can’t see it, so Cas shoots him a concerned look and answers, “Yes. I believe Dean is due back from his lunch break now and he seems a little distracted, is all.”

“Yeah. Yes. I, uh, should get back to work,” Dean says, finally pulling himself together. “Lots to do.”

“Well, okay, I don’t mean to keep you,” Victor replies. “We’ll let you know the moment anything changes, otherwise I’ll call again tomorrow around this time for another check in.”

“Thank you so much, Victor,” Cas says. “We’ll look forward to hearing from you. Hopefully this can all be resolved quickly. We appreciate all the time and effort you and the local Sheriffs have expended on us.”

“Hey, man, don’t worry about it,” Victor says. “That’s our job. We’ve got Charlie and Ash pulling together the official paper trail now that we have warrants, and the minute either of these guys steps one foot in your direction, we’ll have grounds for bringing them in. It shouldn’t be too much longer now and then you can go back to living your lives in peace.”

“I certainly hope so,” Cas says, casting a hopeful glance up at Dean.

“Okay then,” Dean says, “Time to get back to work. We’ll be in touch.”

“Same here. Have a good one, guys,” Victor says, and hangs up.

Before Dean can make a break for the door, Cas asks, “Is everything okay, Dean? It’s just that you seemed worried about something for a moment there.”

It takes every fiber of Dean’s being to stop himself from darting a guilty glance at the filing cabinet drawer. Cas stands up and steps around the desk, laying one hand on Dean’s shoulder and studying him concernedly. Just being that close to Cas and staring back into his eyes is enough to calm Dean’s nerves. And then something clicks into place and he just _knows_ it’s dumb to wait for some nebulous _right time_ because there is no such thing in the real world, and all of his ridiculous daydreams over engineering the exact right scenario in which Cas might not dump his ass on the spot are blown to pieces in the explosion that pushes the next words out of his mouth.

“Marry me.”

“What?” Cas replies, suddenly confused by the whiplash-inducing turn in Dean’s behavior.

Dean repeats himself, the words clearer and stronger now. “Marry me, Cas. I want to marry you.”

Cas stares at him a moment longer and Dean loves watching the little pinch between Cas’s eyebrows smooth out as his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. Dean can’t help smiling and asking again.

“Please, Cas.”

“What brought this on?” Cas asks, suddenly wary again. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut for a second and groans at his own stupidity. He ducks out from under Cas’s hand and darts around to the drawer to fetch the ring box. If he's going to do this, he's going to do it right. Well, as right as he’s capable of under the circumstances. He drops to one knee and digs the ring out of the little blue velvet box, then holds it out to Cas.

“I’m asking you to marry me, you dope. I freaked out when I realized how close you were to finding it by accident. Not that you would have, but maybe you would have, and it’s been sitting in that drawer for like a month, and I just realized I’m an idiot, and it shouldn’t be shoved in a fucking drawer, you should be wearing it, because I love you and I want you to marry me.”

He’s practically panting by the end of his convoluted explanation, but of course Cas followed along and translated Dean’s proposal on the fly because he’s become fluent in Dean. Cas takes one look at Dean’s hopeful face and then glances down to see the ring in Dean’s hand. He makes the weirdest little squealing noise when he sees the tiny shining bee carved into the top of the ring and then drops to his knees, pulling Dean in for a kiss.

“Dean,” is the first thing Cas says when he pulls back for air. And because Dean’s become fluent in Cas, he can decipher every nuance in the way Cas says his name and he knows Cas means yes.

It’s Dean who actually says _yes_ before diving back in for another kiss. They only pull apart again when Dean nearly drops the ring and decides it’ll be safer on Cas’s finger, where it belongs. He leans back enough to fumble for Cas’s hand and then asks one more time, just to be sure. “So that’s a yes?”

“Yes, Dean. Yes.” Cas says, and Dean slides the ring on.

Cas smiles down at it for a minute, twisting it around his finger so the bee sits right on top.

“I love it, Dean,” he finally says, smiling up at Dean. “It’s perfect.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, a strange look passes over his face and he jumps to his feet, bending down to drop a kiss onto the confused wrinkle creasing Dean’s forehead.

“Stay right there,” Cas says, fishing in his pocket for his keys. “I… I have something for you. Just don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Dean says to the empty doorway where Cas just bolted off down the hall toward the shop’s back entrance.

He hears Cas’s keys jingle and the back door to the building creak open and then click shut again. Very faintly he can hear Cas unlock and open the door of his car, parked right on the other side of his office wall. A few seconds later he hears the car door shut again and he expects to hear the shop door swing open any second. That’s when Dean remembers that Cas doesn’t have a key to get back in, so he reluctantly moves from where Cas told him to wait in order to save him the walk all the way around the building to the main entrance.

Dean pushes open the back door expecting to see Cas standing there trying to tug it open it from the other side, but instead he sees something so horrifying he can’t even begin to process it. At the very back of the parking lot is a man shoving Cas into the trunk of a burgundy sedan and slamming the lid shut. Without a thought for his own safety, the last twenty-four hours worth of warnings go straight out the window and Dean’s running flat out and shouting for help. By the time he’s halfway to the car the man’s jumped into the driver’s seat, and with a screech of tires he’s peeling out of the lot.

Dean doesn’t even remember pulling out his phone but it’s pressed to his ear when Victor answers a few seconds later.

“Dean? Is something wrong?”

“He took Cas,” Dean says. “Some fucker was waiting outside the shop, and Cas ran out to his car for a second, and the bastard threw him in the trunk and drove off.”

“Michael?” Victor asks, trying to get a handle on the situation.

“No, not Michael,” Dean replies. “I’ve never seen this guy before. Tall, blond-ish, and I think he fucking winked at me.”

“Can you describe the car he was in?” Victor asks.

Dean can hear paper shuffling and a car starting on Victor’s end of the line. He wonders where Victor is, if he’s close enough to find Cas before that bastard can get his hands on him again. But cars he knows, so he describes the make and model in excruciating detail, down to the exact paint color and the fact that a minor dent in the quarter panel over the left rear wheel was kinda shaped like Iowa.

Dean pulls himself together quickly with Victor guiding him calmly through all his questions. On a mission now, he swings by his office only long enough to strip off his coveralls and grab his jacket. That’s when he notices Cas’s coat hanging on the back of his chair and he grabs that, too. Cas is gonna need it when they find him. He’s already walking past the shop’s front counter as Sheriff Hanscum pulls up out front. He only stops long enough to give Krissy the quickest possible rundown he can muster and leaves her sitting dumbstruck behind the counter for the second afternoon in a row as he runs out and hops in the Sheriff’s car to tear off in search of Cas.

He’s still on the phone with Victor when Donna joins in their conversation and Victor brings in Jody on his end of the call.

“If you see him,” Jody says, “Don’t pursue. We think we have an ID on the suspect and we’re just waiting for confirmation.”

“Don’t pursue?” Dean practically shouts. “But he has Cas!”

“And we’ll get him back, Dean,” Jody says reassuringly. “We will, but there’s things happening here, too. Right after you called, Rowena and Michael came bolting out of their room and took off together. We suspect they’re working with the man who took Cas and we’re going to get them all, Dean. You hear me?”

Dean lets out a pained groan and then takes a deep breath. While he's trying to control his panic over Cas, Donna gets an update over the police radio with a potential address where Michael and Rowena may be meeting up with the bastard who took Cas and turns a sharp corner. The sudden jolt helps to clear his mind.

“Yeah, I hear you.”

Dean can hardly stand being the passenger, helpless to do anything, but at least Donna’s driving like a woman possessed and he has to admit he couldn’t possibly make it through town any faster if he’d been the one behind the wheel instead. He has to content himself with focusing on the details or he’ll lose his mind, so he asks about the great big bag of dicks who took Cas.

“We think it could be Michael’s brother, Luke,” Jody replies. “Rowena’s been in regular contact with him and Michael had been staying with him until he came to town yesterday. We were unaware that Luke was also here in Lawrence until the warrant for Rowena’s cell phone records came in about an hour ago and we were able to read her text messages. Luke texted her last night that he’d arrived and everything was going according to plan. I guess we know what plan they were talking about now,” she grumbles.

“We’re on the way there now, Dean,” Victor says. “Just don’t do anything heroic and stupid when you get there. Luke’s at least as dangerous as his brother and we think they took Cas to lay a trap for you.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut, his stomach squirming with guilt and dread. “It’s not just a trap for me,” he finally replies. “Rowena wants Cas as much as Michael wants me.”

There’s a long moment of silence before Jody replies in a soothing, motherly tone, “You never read about Michael’s arrest, did you?”

“No,” Dean admits. “I kinda had a personal interest in not knowing what that dick did to some other poor bastard who wasn’t lucky enough to get the fuck away from him in time.”

“The man he kidnapped swore that Michael hadn’t been alone,” Jody continues. “He said that Luke was complicit in everything-- the kidnapping, the torture, all of it. We just never had any evidence against him that would stand up in court. The charges were dismissed and his lawyer argued that the victim was simply taking some sort of petty revenge against Michael by implicating his little brother too. Plus, Luke had been a minor at the time and they couldn’t charge him as an adult.”

“Well, that sucks,” Dean says, for lack of anything better to say. He’s practically crawling out of his skin and Jody’s distractions aren’t really helping.

Donna slows the car and turns onto a narrow road on the outskirts of town and then leans over to bracingly pat Dean’s nervously bouncing knee.

“It’s gonna be fine, Dean,” she says, glancing over at him before returning her attention to the road. “We’re almost there.”

 _There_ turns out to be a rundown house in a heavily wooded area sparsely populated with other abandoned looking houses, which Donna drives straight past before turning down another street about a quarter mile away to rendezvous with Jody, Victor, and several other officers who’d been on surveillance duty when Dean’s call came in. It had been their job to tail Rowena and Michael.

Dean’s out of the car as soon as Donna pulls in behind Jody’s truck, stomping over to where Jody’s standing by the open tailgate and conferring with her two deputies. Victor’s pacing a few feet away while studying his iPad and when he sees Dean he points at his earpiece and mouths the word _Ash_ for Dean’s benefit, then taps the screen of his tablet to download whatever document Ash is describing to him.

“Got it,” Victor says, scrolling through the new information. “Thanks, Ash.”

“What do we have?” Donna asks as she catches up to them.

“Warrant for the house we saw Michael and Rowena enter a few minutes ago,” Victor says.

“Technically we saw the fence gate closing,” Jody adds, rolling her eyes as if she and Victor had already debated this once before. “But Victor swears he caught a glimpse of the car you described Michael driving and I know I saw the bumper of Rowena’s car.”

“Close enough for government work,” Victor snaps back. He turns to Dean and explains more calmly, “We had to hang back when they drove into this neighborhood or they’d have spotted us. If they didn’t pull into that yard, then they must’ve disappeared into thin air. They have to be in there.”

“Then what the fuck are we waiting for?” Dean asks, feeling the panic rising again. “Cas is in there!”

“We were waiting for this,” Victor says, holding up the iPad and displaying the warrant. “And now we’re just waiting for backup. There’s only five of us and we don’t know where in that house they are, if there are any other civilians inside, or what kind of danger Cas might be in if we just storm the place unprepared.”

“Then let me go with you,” Dean says.

“You’re not trained, Dean,” Donna replies gently, trying to make him see reason. “We can’t let you get hurt, too.”

“Fuck that,” Dean replies. “My dad used to take me and my brother out hunting on weekends, sometimes with his old Marine Corps buddies. They set up all sorts of tactical ops in abandoned buildings. I know it’s not the same as real training, but I’m not a liability.”

Jody and Victor look halfway convinced, so Dean decides to press his luck.

“Not to mention, it’s me they really want. I wanna see the looks on their faces when I fucking kick down their front door.”

“Kicking down a door isn’t as easy as they make it look on TV,” Donna says, but she’s smiling now.

“Tell me about it,” Dean replies, rolling his eyes. “I’ve done it. Multiple times. My dad and his buddies didn’t screw around.”

“Can you handle a weapon?” Victor asks, walking around Jody’s truck to the deputies’ unmarked sedan, then popping trunk and pulling out a weird-looking rifle with a neon orange stock.

“Is that a toy?” Dean asks, glaring at the gun. “I thought only toy guns were made of orange plastic?”

“It shoots beanbags,” Victor says. “They hurt like a mother, but you won’t accidentally kill your boyfriend if you miss the bad guy. Probably should aim for above the belt, just in case.”

“Beanbags.” Dean glares harder, and shifts a portion of his ire toward Victor for even suggesting such a thing.

He’s tempted to challenge everyone there to a shooting contest to prove he’s at least as good a marksman as the average cop on the street, but he can defend his reputation after they save Cas. Instead, he holds out his hand and Victor hands him the rifle as well as a bulletproof vest. Dean drops the vest to the ground in favor of inspecting his weapon.

“They’ll be pissed I let you tag along in the first place,” Victor says, watching as Dean expertly familiarizes himself with the odd gun and then loads it without having to be told how. “You gotta wear the vest.”

Dean pumps the first round into the chamber and then lays the rifle on the trunk of the deputy’s car before picking up the vest and slipping it over his head. “Oh, I plan to,” he says. “But first things first. Weapons check is always first.”

“Whatever you say, Dean,” Victor replies, holding up his hands in surrender and taking a step back.

Jody looks up from her phone and signals the other two deputies, who join their little planning meeting.

“I’ve got two more deputies and whatever officers the local police can spare on the way, and an ambulance on standby just in case,” she says. When she sees Dean wince at the mention of the ambulance she adds, “It’s standard procedure, Dean. Contrary to what your dad taught you, the Sheriff’s Department’s rule is safety first.”

“So are we gonna do this thing?” Dean asks, putting any thought of anyone needing an ambulance out of his mind and picking up his weapon.

Victor nods and makes one final call to Ash to let him know they’re moving on the house now so Ash can coordinate the rest of their backup accordingly as they arrive on scene. From here on out, it’s all in their hands.

Jody takes her two deputies through the woods so they can approach the house from the back while Dean follows Victor and Donna toward the front door. The side of the house closest to them is entirely concealed by an eight foot tall wooden fence. They’ll have to move directly past the heavy gate that Victor still swears is hiding both Rowena’s car and the burgundy sedan Luke used to abduct Cas. Now that they’re closer, just a few yards away from the tall planks of the fence, Dean can see there are uneven gaps between the boards. Donna sees, too.

“When we get close enough,” she leans in to Dean and whispers in his ear, “See if you can peek through and get a visual confirmation on the vehicles.”

Dean just nods and gives her the thumbs up, and then Victor raises a hand and waves them onward. Victor breaks out of the cover of the dense trees first, followed a few seconds later by Donna, with Dean bringing up the rear.

Victor inches cautiously through the brambles and tall grass along the fence line while Donna stops just past every gap in the fence to cover Dean while he scans the yard beyond through the cracks. The first few times they stop, Dean can’t make out much other than a wildly overgrown yard. As they creep closer to the gate, he finally catches a glimpse of the sedan and has to fight down the urge to yell out and run toward the house because he knows Cas is in there now. He must’ve made some sort of sound though, because Donna turns on him with a disappointed frown. Dean just points toward the gap in the fence and then gives her another thumbs up, schooling his face into grim seriousness.

Donna gives one approving nod, satisfied that their warrant will hold up in court now, and quickens her steps to Victor’s side. Dean takes one last peek through the gate at the Iowa-shaped dent in the fender and irrationally sends out a little prayer for Cas to hold on and that he’s coming for him.

Before he can even second guess what the hell he’s doing walking into such a dangerous situation, Victor’s turning the corner of the fence and creeping toward the front door with Donna right on his heels. They’d already worked out their entry plan and Victor and Donna split up, one on either side of the front door with their backs to the siding, waiting for Dean to do the honor of kicking it down.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for Dean to jump up onto the porch and plant the heel of his boot just above the doorknob, but it feels like an eternity in slow motion. He takes in Victor and Donna turning their faces away in case the door frame splinters when it goes down and then focuses on the the door itself-- once solid and sturdy but now brittle and dry, warped by time and weather, its last coat of paint nothing more than a few stray yellow chips clinging to the graying wood beneath. He thinks of Cas and pours all his fear and anger into a kick powerful enough to knock the door clean off its rusted hinges and send it crashing to the dusty floor inside. Instinct takes over the moment it goes down and he dives to the side the way he’d been taught as a kid, because there’s no telling what might be waiting on the other side.

Victor announces them with, “FBI! We have a warrant!”

And then all hell breaks loose.

Donna and Victor dart into the dim interior while Dean waits a second or two for his eyes to adjust before cautiously stepping inside. He’s barely through the front door before Jody and her deputies are crashing through another door in an unseen part of the building. Directly in front of Dean is a staircase leading up to the second floor, and he waits impatiently with his toy rifle pointed up and covering the landing above while the others finish clearing the first floor before they can move upstairs.

Jody steps up behind Dean after clearing the kitchen, and that’s when they hear scuffling and then a loud thud from upstairs that, to Dean, sounds horrifyingly like a body hitting the floor. Victor is running to his side when a pained groan filters down from above, and then Dean’s suddenly flying up the stairs ahead of the trained professionals.

He’s confronted with three closed doors off the landing, but without any idea which one will lead him to Cas he freezes, which gives Victor and Jody and chance to catch up with him. Victor grabs his shoulder and pushes Dean back a few paces, letting Donna and Jody each claim a door while Victor positions himself in front of the third. The deputies, like Dean, stand back and wait, ready to jump in whatever direction they need to when the doors fly open.

Victor holds up three fingers, then drops one, and then another, and then all three of them lay waste to the flimsy doors. It’s Donna that shouts, “Sheriff’s Department! Hands where I can see them!”

She takes a step to the side to allow Victor and one of the deputies to move into the room. Dean’s right behind them, scanning the room frantically for any sign of Cas. The first thing he sees when the deputy crouches down is a man lying face down on the floor in a pool of blood. It only takes a second of blind panic to realize that it’s not Cas, and that’s when he sees Rowena moving off to the left.

Donna pivots to aim her weapon at Rowena, but Victor and the crouching deputy hold steady. Dean can’t see what they’re aiming at until he moves up shoulder to shoulder with Donna, but what he sees then sends his heart thudding up into his throat.

Luke stands across the room, his back to the corner, clutching Cas’s unconscious body to his chest, the edge of a bloody knife leaving obscene trails on Cas’s collar. Dean can’t stop the pained noise he makes at the sight and Luke rolls his eyes and jostles Cas’s limp body, the knife carelessly close to Cas’s lolling neck.

“Drop the knife,” Victor orders, but Luke smiles and shakes his head.

“I don’t think I can do that,” Luke replies. “I mean, you caught me red handed.” He tilts his head toward his bloody hand gripping the knife and raises an eyebrow like that was supposed to be a joke. “I don’t think this is going to end very well for me no matter what I do next, so I’d like to keep enjoying myself as long as I can. And I find Castiel here quite enjoyable.”

Luke gives Cas a little shake to prove his point and Cas’s hands swing back and forth at his sides. His grip also slips a little bit, Cas’s knees bending as Luke loses control of him for a moment, and the knife slides up Cas’s shoulder toward his neck again.

“Let him go, Luke,” Dean says, his voice low and icy. “I know Michael did this to get at me. Cas isn’t part of this. Just let him go.”

“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Dean,” Luke says, perking up now that he’s got a chance to speak. “Cas is a huge part of this. He got you here, after all.”

There’s a sudden commotion off to Dean’s left and Donna’s shouting another, “Don’t move!” just as Dean hears the same choked whining sound that brought him up the stairs to begin with. It’s Rowena, stumbling forward with one hand outstretched toward Luke and Cas.

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt him, Luke,” she says. “He was supposed to be for me.”

“That’s right. I did say that,” Luke replies, and then lets out a comically put-upon sigh, before turning back to stare Dean down again and going on in a sing-songy voice. “For some reason Rowena’s grown attached to your boyfriend here. I tried to explain how the whole gay thing works, but she refused to believe me. She thinks they’re meant to be. But you, on the other hand, Dean. I had such plans for you.”

“ _You_ did?,” Dean says, ignoring Rowena entirely and trusting Donna to keep her under control. “I thought it was Michael with the plans.”

Luke sneers down at the body on the floor and that’s when Dean recognizes it.

“Michael was never much with the planning,” Luke replies, his voice pitching louder as he takes out his ire on his brother’s corpse. “That’s how he ended up in prison and I ended up losing my favorite toy. He had no patience. If he’d only waited a little longer, he wouldn’t have had to take Adam against his will. The boy would’ve come right out and said yes. I think that’s your fault, Dean, for never giving him another chance.”

Dean gapes at Luke, aghast. “You really are fucked in the head, Luke, if you think anyone would agree to the kind of torture Michael put that kid through.”

“Oh, Michael didn’t torture him,” Luke replies, grinning wickedly and drawing the flat of the knife along the side of Cas’s neck. “Michael took care of him after I got done with him. That was our game. Michael just kept breaking the rules.”

“You been playing this game long, Luke?” Victor asks.

“That’s how we met, right Luke?” Rowena sneers at him. “Your daddy sent you away when he found out about your hobby, but Michael didn’t take any of the blame for that little mess. But I played by your rules, Luke! And you promised me my reward.”

“Your reward?” Luke replies. “You think you earned a prize for this? They were already on to you before I even showed up in town! You and Michael couldn’t resist taunting them on their fucking website! We could’ve had everything if my idiot brother had just followed the rules! And now look what it’s gotten us?”

Luke waves the knife toward the crowd of cops in the doorway, so worked up by Rowena’s apparent betrayal that he forgets himself just long enough for Dean to fire his toy gun. For a toy, it makes a shockingly loud noise.

Dean’s beanbag hits Luke square between the eyes, and he goes down like a slinky crumpling to the floor. Cas folds right along with him, sliding forward out of Luke’s grasp.

Rowena screams and suddenly everyone’s moving. Donna and the crouching deputy tackle her to the floor while Victor and Dean rush toward Luke and Cas respectively. Dean barely registers Victor kicking the knife away from Luke’s limp hand. He’s too busy hovering over Cas, searching for any sign of injury and trying to rouse him.

“Cas! Hey babe, come on. Talk to me,” Dean pleads, grasping Cas’s face between his hands. “I’m here, Cas. Please wake up.”

Cas is still breathing and he doesn’t appear to have any injuries, but Dean still can’t get him to respond.

Jody kneels down at Dean’s side and says, “Ambulance is on its way. They’ll be here in less than a minute. Hang on, Dean.”

“You hear that, Cas? You hang on,” Dean says, pulling Cas into his lap and holding on for dear life.

The medics show up seconds later and it takes Jody and Donna both to convince Dean to let go of Cas so the medics can help him. He stands there staring dumbly while they check Cas’s vitals and start an IV. One of them shouts out to the room, asking if anyone knows what sort of drug Cas had been given.

Donna makes a disgusted noise and stomps over to where her deputy is leading Rowena down the stairs, and what Donna says next makes Dean want to kiss her.

“You got one chance to fix just a little bit of everything you’ve broken here,” Donna says. “You didn’t want him hurt, so help him now. What knocked him out?”

Rowena just shrugs, like she’s suddenly lost interest in the entire game, because that’s all it ever was to her in the first place. “Knowing Luke, probably some sort of animal tranquilizer.”

The deputy leading her down glances up at Donna and apologizes, and then leads Rowena out to a half a dozen other officers now waiting outside. Dean just stands in the doorway watching her go, and she has the nerve to wink at him as she disappears from view. The whole time Dean's been distracted by Rowena, Donna has been working to undo the straps of Dean’s vest. He only notices when she prods him to bend over so she can pull it over his head.

Dean spares one glance for Michael, long past the point of any medical help, thanks to his brother. He shudders, never more relieved in his life that he had Charlie to lean on for support back in high school. Without her, he may have given Michael another chance and wound up in the hands of his even creepier brother.

Dean then notices Luke, now lying face down with his hands cuffed behind his back. He still hasn’t recovered from the shot that knocked him out, and Dean’s gratified to see the huge welt forming right between his eyes. He should probably get that looked at. Head injuries are nothing to sneer at, but Dean’s grateful the medics are focusing on Cas instead. Victor gets his attention just long enough to nod approvingly and then Dean’s attention is pulled back toward the only thing that really matters.

“We got it,” one of the medics says into his phone, taking orders from the doctor standing by at the hospital, and then hands a syringe from their kit to the other medic, who injects something into Cas’s IV.

Within seconds, Cas is beginning to come around. Dean’s on his knees at Cas’s side again in a flash and grabbing hold of Cas’s free hand, and his heart soars when the first word out of Cas’s mouth is a pained and confused, “Dean.”

“I’m right here, Cas,” Dean says, leaning in close while the medics prepare to load Cas onto a board to carry him out. “I got you.”

“Dean,” Cas says, this time infused with relief. He reaches up, wincing as he tries to run his hand through his hair. The IV tubing taped to the back of his wrist pulls and he abandons his effort, frowning. “My head hurts.”

“A bad guy clocked you on the noggin, sir,” one of the medics chimes in, leaning over so Cas can see him. “Shot you full of the good drugs and lugged you around like a teddy bear, but we’re taking you to the hospital to get you all straightened out.”

Dean sees a flash of panic zing across Cas’s face and that’s when he realizes how out of it Cas still is. The medic did say he got the good drugs. Dean can’t bite back his laugh, and Cas turns worried eyes on him again.

“Dean? Does that mean we can’t get married now?”

“Dude, they’re not gonna turn you straight. They probably wanna take x-rays or some shit and keep you for observation until the drugs wear off and your brain starts working again.” He’s not gonna touch the whole “get married” thing with a ten foot pole until Cas comes back to his senses. Once he hears the whole story, Dean wouldn’t even blame Cas for changing his mind about tying himself permanently to Dean. He lets Cas distract him again from his self-loathing. He decides to enjoy Cas while he can.

“Is my brain… broken?” Cas asks, eyes wide and blinking. “Then how am I talking?”

“Wow, fuck Cas. What planet are you orbiting right now? I should be getting this on camera.”

Cas grins wildly at Dean. “You should. We should take a picture of our feet to commemorate this occasion.”

“I don’t know if you’re gonna want to remember this occasion,” Dean says, but pulls out his phone anyway while they gently hoist Cas onto the back board. While the medics strap him down, Dean stretches out his legs and clasps Cas’s feet between his own. As soon as he snaps the picture, he switches the camera around and aims it at their faces. Cas is still floating off in whatever slightly squishy version of reality he’s dreaming up for himself, and despite having his head strapped down for safety he looks absolutely delighted to see his and Dean’s faces together on the tiny screen. Dean, on the other hand, can hardly stand the lingering look of haunted fear in his own eyes. Instead he turns his head to look at Cas, who’s still grinning at the screen, and kisses Cas on the cheek as he takes the picture.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> OH MY WORD! Is everyone going to come through this ordeal? Well, I suppose Michael isn't... BUT EVERYONE ELSE?! Let's find out. It's not like I'm going to spoil my own story for your people. Well, I did give you the heads up about the shower sex, and then the "it's all going to hell" warning, but that was just common courtesy. And I did tag this as Hurt/Comfort, so y'all are probably expecting a little comfort right about now. *offers nice cup of tea* Eh. Right. Shutting up. Read on, lovelies!

When the ambulance pulls up at the hospital, Cas is rushed in for a CT scan and a battery of other tests. The woman who shows Dean to the waiting room is saying all sorts of things that Dean mostly nods along politely to. They’re too awful to focus on directly; things like _rule out a skull fracture_ and _precaution against permanent organ damage_.

It doesn't take long for her to notice that Dean’s probably in shock himself, and instead of trying to reassure him about Cas she brings him a blanket and a cup of coffee and asks if there’s anyone she can call for him. Dean waves her off and then remembers that Sam has no idea what’s happened. He should probably give him a call, but Dean can’t think beyond trying to finish his coffee without spilling it all over his nice warm blanket, with all his spare energy and thoughts directed toward Cas and hoping he’s okay.

Dean’s not sure how long he’s been sitting there when Victor comes strolling in and sits down beside him. He hands Dean Cas’s carefully folded trench coat that he’d left on the front seat of Donna’s car before their raid. Dean turns and nods, slowly working himself up to normal levels of human interaction.

“How’s Cas?” Is the first thing Victor asks, and Dean really appreciates it.

“Don’t know yet. They took him back there,” he looks down at his watch and has no idea what time they arrived at the hospital, but it’s nearly four o’clock so he imagines it’s been at least an hour. “A while ago. Running tests and shit.”

Victor nods. “Michael’s dead, but you probably already guessed that.”

“Yeah,” Dean replies with a sarcastic laugh. “Turns out he was the less-crazy brother.”

“You never knew about Luke, I take it?”

“Nah, man. But I guess nobody else did, either.” Dean pauses to take another sip of coffee and then goes on. “At least not anyone who wanted to stop him. Michael and Rowena were willing to play his fucked up game with him, and his parents tried to lock him up when he was still a kid, but look how well that worked out.”

“Well thanks to you, we’ve got him now,” Victor says. “We caught him literally red handed. Nice shot, by the way.”

“Too bad it wasn’t a real bullet,” Dean grumbles under his breath. Then louder, “What’s gonna happen to him and Rowena?”

“Luke’s in intensive care,” Victor replies. “They’re not sure if he’s ever gonna wake up. Real bullet or not, the shot fractured his skull and did some serious damage.”

Dean just grunts. What the hell do you say to that? He may have effectively killed a man, but it was a man who’d just sliced up his own brother and was threatening to do the same to Cas. He still doesn’t know if Cas will ever really be okay again either. If he had it all to do over again, Dean would’ve done the exact same thing.

“You did what you had to do, Dean,” Victor says. “You saved Cas. You stopped a dangerous killer. At the end of the day, try to remember the lives you saved, okay?”

Dean takes a deep breath and nods.

“Rowena’s being charged with murder,” Victor adds, trying to ease Dean’s mind about _anything_. “We have all the records of her communications with both Luke and Michael setting this whole shitshow up. She can’t claim she didn’t know what they were planning since she was in on it from the start. She’s gonna spend the rest of her life in prison, most likely.”

“Well, that’s something anyway.” Whatever Dean intended to say next is forgotten when Cas’s doctor strides into the waiting room.

“Mr. Winchester? I’m Dr. Linda Tran. Castiel wants me to assure you that he’s fine before I tell you anything else. He said you’d be worried about him.”

“Can I see him now?” Dean asks, jumping to his feet.

Dr. Tran smiles at him and tells Dean to follow her.

“I can wait for a bit if you think you’ll need a ride home later,” Victor offers, getting to his feet as well.

Dean glances at Dr. Tran, having no idea about when Cas might be released, and she answers his unasked question.

“We’d like to keep Castiel for another few hours for observation to make sure he doesn’t have a delayed reaction to any of the drugs he was given today. You’re welcome to stay with him in the meantime.”

Dean turns to Victor and extends his hand. “Thanks, Victor, but I think I might be here a while. I should probably call my brother and let him know what happened,” Dean adds with a frown. He still hasn’t told Sam, and he and Jess will start worrying pretty soon when he and Cas don’t show up by dinner time.

“Charlie’s on her way to your house right now,” Victor replies, shaking Dean’s hand. “She thought this might be news best delivered in person. I’ll let her know Cas is gonna be fine and she can tell Sam for you. You go take care of Cas, okay?”

“Will do. And thanks again.”

“My pleasure, Dean. I’ll see you around.”

Dean turns back to Dr. Tran. “Lead the way, then.”

Dr. Tran leads them toward a bank of elevators while describing the tests they’ve run and the comfortingly normal results. “He’s suffered a mild concussion from the initial head injury, and the effects of the tranquilizer he was given temporarily compounded the headache and dizziness. He’ll still be feeling a little off for a week or so and he needs to take it easy. No strenuous exercise, and loud noises and bright lights may bother him as well. He shouldn’t drive for at least a few days until the dizziness passes, but he should make a full recovery if he takes it easy.”

“I guess that means no wild New Year’s Eve parties for us, huh?” Dean asks as the elevator brings them to the third floor.

“I’m sorry about that,” Dr. Tran says, leading Dean down the hall to Cas’s room. “He probably won’t feel much like partying for a while.”

“I’m not sorry,” Dean tells her earnestly. “At least I get to take him home with me tonight, and that’s more than I thought I’d get a few hours ago. Thanks.”

“If you need anything, push the nurse’s call button and we’ll get you sorted. Otherwise I’ll be back in an hour to check his vitals and see where we stand.”

She pushes Cas’s door open for Dean and then heads off down the hall to check on her other patients, leaving Dean alone for a second to prepare himself for what he might find.

“Dean,” Cas says, the word filled with relief and contentment this time.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean replies, striding into the room, a little bit relieved himself that Cas looks a little tired-- and he’s still connected up to the IV and some sort of beeping monitor-- but otherwise he looks just like his usual Cas.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Cas says, scooting over and patting the edge of the bed in invitation. “It’s really boring here.”

Dean lets out one semi-hysterical laugh and then shakes his head, moving closer to sit where Cas wants him. “Shit, man, we’ve had enough excitement for one day already. Boring is looking real good right about now.”

“You may have had an exciting day, but the last thing I remember is being whacked over the head.”

“You really don’t remember anything else?” Dean asks.

Cas starts to shake his head and then winces, and stops. “I vaguely remember being pulled out of a car trunk and given some sort of a shot. The rest is fuzzy to non-existent.”

“Probably best that way,” Dean replies, suppressing a shudder.

“Do you mind telling me what happened?” Cas asks, tentatively reaching for Dean’s hand like he’s not sure Dean will take it.

Dean snatches it up, kisses his knuckles, and then slowly leans in for a proper kiss, giving Cas every chance to stop him. Cas rolls his eyes, winces again, and then grabs Dean by the back of his neck and pulls him in. Their lips meet gently, Dean trying not to jostle Cas in any way that might cause him more pain, but they both make a contented little noise of relief and pleasure.

Dean leans back to look into Cas’s eyes and show him just how happy he is to see him, and then rests his head down on Cas’s shoulder long enough to breathe him in. And then he starts talking, telling Cas everything he can remember. When he gets to the part about the selfies Cas made him take back at the crime scene, Cas laughs.

“Oh god, I thought I dreamed that,” he says. “Can I see them?”

Dean pulls out his phone and shows Cas the picture of their feet and then the one of their faces. Cas stares at it for several long minutes and Dean just watches his reaction. Cas looks so goofy in the picture, grinning wildly, but Dean’s pretty sure Cas isn’t looking at himself when he squeezes his eyes shut and blinks away a tear. When he reaches up to brush it away, that’s when Cas remembers his new ring and the entire reason he’d run outside in the first place.

Cas holds his hand up to study the ring, rubbing his thumb over the little bee, and then smiles up at Dean. For his part, Dean’s terrified that this is when Cas will offer to give the ring back, because this whole mess is his fault and Cas is only lying in this hospital bed because of _him_. Dean’s stomach feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out, but he wouldn’t blame Cas if he’d changed his mind.

“I’d wanted it to be a surprise,” Cas says, squeezing Dean’s hand. “But I guess I ruined that by being kidnapped and everything. I have something I want to give you, and as soon as we get out of here, I intend to do just that.”

“A surprise?” Dean asks, feeling marginally better as his stomach begins to untwist. Cas is smiling and he hasn’t given back the ring yet. Or thrown Dean out. “A good surprise?”

“Definitely better than the surprise we ended up with already today,” Cas says. “Yes, Dean. A very good surprise.”

“Well, then, what are we waiting for,” Dean jokes, laying his head back on Cas’s shoulder. “Let’s get you up and out of here.”

Dean’s phone buzzes where Cas had set it down on his lap, and he sees it’s a text from Sam.

>> _Charlie’s here and told us everything. Hope you guys are doing okay. If you need anything, we’re here for you. Just let us know._

Dean reads the message out for Cas and his immediate response is, “Cheeseburgers. Tell him we need cheeseburgers. Lots of them.”

<< _Cas wants cheeseburgers, but we’re doing fine otherwise. We might need a ride home from the hospital later, but I’ll let you guys know. Thanks, man._

_> >Say the word and we’ll be there. You want us to stick around and hold down the fort, or do you guys just want to be alone? We can clear out tonight if you want._

Dean leaves the decision up to Cas. “Do you want company tonight, or peace and quiet?”

“I think I just want to curl up in our bed with you and sleep for a week.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Dean replies, feeling the last knot unwind. Cas is going to stay with him. Cas _wants_ to stay with him. He feels the grin spread across his face as he texts Sam back.

_< <Cas isn’t really up for company, but thanks for the offer. And thanks for everything else. I’m sorry you both got dragged into my shit._

_> >Shut up, Dean. This wasn’t your shit. This was not your fault, you get that? I’m just glad it’s over now._

_> >And you’re welcome._

_> >Call me when you need that ride, and give us a 15 minute head start to swing by Benny’s for burgers._

_< <Thanks, Sammy_

It’s not long before Dean says to hell with it, kicks off his boots and tosses his jacket to the foot of the bed where he’d already lain out Cas’s coat. He crawls into bed and curls himself around Cas, and they both drift off to sleep.

That’s how Dr. Tran finds them more than an hour later. When she sees them lying there, instead of disturbing them to give Cas one last examination, she retreats to the nurse’s station to get his discharge papers in order. They’re still sleeping when she comes back, but all of Cas’s tests have come back normal and it’s obvious that Dean will take good care of him at home. She gently taps Dean’s shoulder and steps back.

“Go back to sleep, babe. It’s still dark out,” Dean says, nuzzling down into Cas’s shoulder.

“I was asleep, Dean,” Cas grumbles. “Why are you even talking?”

Dr. Tran can’t hold back a snort of laughter, and suddenly both Dean and Cas are blinking awake, turning to glare at her.

“Neither of you are morning people, I take it,” she says. When they both make some irritated grumbling noises, she gives them the good news. “Well, I’m happy to tell you it’s actually six o’clock in the evening and I have your discharge paperwork all ready to go, Mr. Novak. You’ll just need to go over the instructions and sign on the dotted line, and then you’re free to leave.”

“Right now?” Cas says, rubbing his eyes and trying to sit up with Dean still sprawled out all over him.

Dean takes the hint and rolls over a bit to give Cas space, forgetting just how narrow the hospital bed is. Dr. Tran’s hand on his back is the only thing that keeps him from landing ass-first on the floor, but he still has to scramble to get to his feet. Dr. Tran smirks at him as he tries to regain his dignity. She shoves the clipboard of documents that need to be reviewed and signed at him and pushes him to the side so she can tend to Cas.

“You won’t need this anymore,” she says, gently pulling out the IV and disconnecting the monitoring equipment, and then gives him a final once over. “As soon as you’re dressed, you can bring those papers to the nurse and we’ll get you on your way. You should take the rest of the week off and just relax,” she adds, including Dean in her motherly glare. “Both of you. It’s a holiday weekend anyway. I’m sure your bosses will understand when they hear the reason.”

“I don’t have to be back at work for nearly two weeks anyway,” Cas says, rubbing his hand where Dr. Tran just peeled off the IV tape. “And Dean is his own boss. I’m sure I can make a convincing argument to him on his own behalf.”

Dean laughs at that and shakes his head, holding out a hand to help Cas stand up. Cas wobbles a little and Dean catches him with an arm around his waist. “Yeah, I’ll let Dean slack off work this week. He is my best employee, after all. Don’t want him to quit in a huff. I’d be up shit creek without that guy.”

Cas gives Dr. Tran a smile and a little tilt of his head in Dean’s direction in a _see what I mean? He’s a pushover_ kind of gesture.

“You two are adorable,” Dr. Tran tells them. “Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Frequently,” Cas says, looking around for his clothes. He spots a bit of his coat sticking out from under Dean’s jacket and says, “Dean,” filling the word with more warmth than the damn trench coat could ever hope to provide. “You brought my coat.”

“I was gonna bring it to you when we found you, but they made me leave it in Donna’s car when we stormed the house,” Dean says. “I knew you’d need it later, and Victor brought it here after I jumped in the ambulance with you. So you really need to thank him for that.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas hugs him tight and Dr. Tran has to clear her throat before they forget she’s there entirely.

“So, paperwork, clothes,” she adds pointedly, glancing down to where Cas’s hospital gown is gaping open at the back, “and then you’re free to leave. Do you need me to call you a cab, since you came in by ambulance?”

“Nah,” Dean says, pulling away from Cas to gather his clothes for him. “Got my brother on standby. But thanks again for everything, Dr. Tran.”

He extends his hand and Dr. Tran grips it. “It’s Linda. And you’re both very welcome.”

 

Dean lets Sam know they’re being discharged, and then helps Cas get dressed. Cas nearly passes out when he tries to bend over to pull his socks on, so Dean makes him sit and does it for him while Cas reads and signs all the necessary forms.

“Are you really going to take off the rest of the week, Dean?” Cas says, setting the clipboard aside while Dean finishes tying his boots. “I thought you were already falling behind schedule? Won’t your customers be upset?”

“Screw ‘em,” Dean replies, patting Cas’s knee as he stands up. “If they’re gonna complain about this, then they can take their business to someone else.”

“I appreciate it, Dean,” Cas says, attempting to stand up but failing miserably when he nearly swoons again. Instead he pulls Dean between his knees and hugs him tight, resting his ear against Dean’s stomach. Which, predictably, growls.

Cas turns his face into Dean’s belly and laughs.

“I second that sentiment,” Cas says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean says, running fingers through Cas’s hair and carefully avoiding the knot on the back of his head. “Sam’s bringing burgers if you can hold out a few more minutes.”

Dean takes the forms to the nurse, who returns a minute later with a wheelchair. It’s hospital regulations, but Cas still tries to protest that he doesn’t need it. He gives in when Dean has to catch him yet again when he tries to stand up too quickly.

“Just sit your ass down and enjoy the ride, babe,” Dean says as the nurse pushes him out of the room.

“That’s what she said,” Cas replies, and the nurse cracks up, nearly running him into the doorway.

“Need me to take over with the pushing there?” Dean asks the flustered nurse.

She shakes her head, and tries to compose herself, but Dean just grins at her and shrugs.

Sam’s just pulling up outside when they finally make it out the front door, and Jess leaps out the second the car stops and runs over to give Cas a gentle hug.

“Oh my god, Cas! I’m so glad you’re okay.”

She lets him go after a moment so she can grab Dean into a less-gentle hug.

“And you got yourself a big goofy hero to take care of you, too. Thank god it’s all over.”

Sam’s standing by the back door of the car ready to help Cas in, but Cas manages to stand up all on his own this time.

“Hey, Cas, you didn’t even wobble,” Dean says, suddenly feeling a little useless.

Cas sticks his hand out, and Dean takes it. “I was motivated by the aroma of french fries,” he replies, peering around Sam to see two bags from Benny’s waiting for them on the back seat. “The effect is entirely temporary, I assure you.”

Cas proves it by stumbling down the ramp and almost flying face first into the back seat. Sam and Dean catch him before he can give himself another concussion, while Jess and the nurse stand back and enjoy the show.

They’re gobbling down their burgers, fries, and chocolate milkshakes before Sam’s even got the car started. Between bites, they fill in some of the details that Sam and Jess had missed, and in turn Dean and Cas learn some of the official proceedings Charlie had learned and shared with them earlier.

Sam stops at a traffic light waiting to turn toward home when Cas suddenly remembers.

“We need to drop by the shop,” Cas tells him. “There’s something I left there that I need.”

“It’s okay, Cas,” Sam says. “I can drop you home and then go run whatever errands you need me to. You should be resting.”

“No, Sam,” Cas insists. “I won’t be able to rest until I’m sure it wasn’t lost when I was... abducted.”

Cas says the word so quietly Sam almost doesn’t hear it, but he does hear it. Sam sits up straighter, like he’s suddenly been given a very important top secret mission, and he intends to carry it out like soldier heading into battle. He turns the car around at the next intersection and heads toward the shop.

“Pull around back,” Cas instructs him.

The shop is all closed up for the night and Dean reaches into his pocket for his key thinking Cas will need his laptop and notes that are still spread out all over Dean’s office. Cas notices what he’s doing when he hears the keys jingling as Dean sorts through the ring, and stops him with a hand on his wrist. “I won’t be working for a while anyway. I just want to get Sting and go home.”

Dean shoves his keys back into his pocket and Sam pulls into the spot beside Cas’s Bel Air. Dean gets out first and runs around to help Cas. Before Dean gets to Cas’s door, he notices a little slip of yellow paper jammed under the windshield wiper of Cas’s car. He stops in his tracks, and with no small amount of trepidation he lifts the blade and pulls the note out.

_Dean,_

_I didn’t want someone to steal Cas’s car and he’d left the keys on the seat. I locked it up and left the keys behind the front counter on hook #1. I hope you’re both okay. Charlie called with an update and said Cas was in the hospital. We’re all sending the good mojo your way, boss. Take it easy, and don’t you dare show up for work tomorrow. That’s an order._

_-Krissy_

“Well, I guess we’re going inside anyway,” Dean says, handing the note to Cas. “You wanna come in and pack your stuff up while we’re here?”

“I suppose so,” Cas replies, letting Dean help him to the back door. “Thank you again, Sam, Jess.”

“Sure thing, guys,” Jess replies. “Just give us a call if you need anything. We stocked up your kitchen, so you should be good for a while if you’d rather just hibernate.”

“Yeah,” Sam adds, “I guess we’ll talk to you in a few days. Take it easy.”

“Will do, and thanks again,” Dean says, and then Sam’s driving away and they’re blessedly alone again.

Cas slumps against Dean’s shoulder and Dean guides him into the office and sits him down in the chair. “You need help getting this together, or do you mind if I go up front and get your keys? I kinda want to leave Krissy a note thanking her for taking care of stuff and letting her know I won’t be back for a while.”

“I’ll be fine, Dean. Do what you need to do. We’re not in a hurry.”

Dean taps the door frame with his hand and nods. “I’ll be right back.”

Cas carefully organizes and stacks his notes and pulls his messenger bag over to begin packing it up, but when he opens it he notices a strange brown padded envelope tucked inside. He doesn’t remember it being there that afternoon, so he pulls it out carefully, worried it might contain some new threat to their lives. He lets out a relieved sigh when he sees _To Cas, from Krissy_ written across the front. Inside, he finds another note.

_Cas,_

_I wasn’t sure, but this looks like something you didn’t want sitting out on the front seat of your car in plain sight. I’m gonna use my special powers of deduction and guess that this is intended for a certain tall, green-eyed mechanic, and further guess that he doesn’t know about it yet. Sorry your surprise went to hell, but I thought you deserved a second chance to do it right. Hope I didn’t overstep by sneaking it into your bag. I swear I didn’t snoop through your stuff, and I promise I won’t mention the you-know-what to anyone else._

_Oh, and congrats, by the way. I hope you’re feeling better soon. I think we’re all about to be real busy planning a certain special event, and you’ll need to be strong to fend off Charlie, Jo, Jess, AND Sam. Just saying._

_Love, Krissy_

Cas upends the envelope over his palm and the object that he’d nearly gotten himself killed for drops into his hand. The heavy silver and gold band clinks against his new ring, and the sound makes him giddy. He hears Dean pluck his keys off the hook down the hall and knows he only has a minute to finish packing everything up and put his new plan into action. He haphazardly shoves the rest of his notes and his laptop into his bag and uses the desk to balance himself as he sidesteps around toward the door. As Dean enters the office, Cas kneels down in front of him and says his piece.

“Dean, I know I wasn’t thinking when I ran outside this afternoon. If I was, I could’ve saved us both a lot of pain. But it was for a good cause. If you still want me, I still want you. I love you, Dean, and I’d be honored to marry you.”

He holds up the ring, a thick silver band carved to look like honeycomb with several of the hexagons filled in with gold to resemble honey. Dean finally tears his eyes away from Cas’s face and sees it, and then drops to his knees the same way Cas had done that afternoon.

“Of course I still want to marry you, you dolt.” He takes the ring from Cas and studies it carefully. “Looks like we hit on a theme, eh?” Dean slides it onto his finger and then holds it up next to the bee ring on Cas’s finger. “Matched set, Bumblebee.”

“I bought it right after you asked me to move in with you,” Cas says. “I always intended to give it to you along with a pink frosted donut, so I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

Dean laughs, remembering the infamous Pink Donut Frenzy Cas’s first joking proposal had touched off. “Okay, yeah, maybe I am a little disappointed, then.”

“I promise to redeem myself to you the next time we have occasion to visit a Gas ‘n Sip. But the honeycomb ring seemed fitting to me. I’ve always been your bumblebee, and you’ve always been my home.”

They’re both manfully trying to hold back tears, but Dean caves first and crushes their lips together. They kiss until they’re pretty sure it’s not going to help them get their feelings under control, but instead brings up an assortment of new problems that Dean doesn’t want to take care of in his cramped little office, despite joking with Cas about that very thing earlier that afternoon.

“Unless you really want to test my couch out, I think we should probably head home,” Dean says, finally pulling back.

Cas nods, resting his forehead against Dean’s and closing his eyes. “I think that’s wise. My head is alternating between pounding like a jackhammer and threatening to float off my shoulders like a balloon. I really just want to climb in bed with you.”

Dean leans in and places a gentle kiss on Cas’s lips in apology. “Let’s go home.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are. The end of the story. I hope y'all feel sufficiently comforted. I know I do. Probably because I'm relieved I'm finally posting this story, which means I'm no longer angsting about writing this story. That's always comforting. So here we go, the ~~last chapter of the Tumblr Anonymous series. At least for now. I'm indecisive, and I'll probably think up something new to write for these guys.~~ Well, it's the last chapter of THIS part of the Tumblr Anonymous series, at any rate. There is definitely more to come. And I promise, any and all future stories will NOT require the "angst" tag. It's all fluff and sprinkles from here on out. :)

Dean and Cas spend most of Wednesday in bed, only getting up long enough to eat once in a while. It’s lazy and wonderful and exactly what the doctor ordered. They may have skirted around the _no strenuous activity_ stipulation a couple of times, but Cas swears it seems to improve his symptoms and Dean is more than happy to help.

For the first time in months, they completely ignore their blog, for several reasons. It’s partially under the orders of the police so they have time to file formal charges against Rowena and Luke before any of the details of what went down become public, even though Luke still hasn’t recovered consciousness. The doctors aren’t optimistic for his chances. All the legal considerations aside, Dean and Cas are also coming to terms with the fact that the legal proceedings will make it impossible for them to remain anonymous.

The local morning news runs a fairly vague story about the incident, but the police still haven’t released their names yet. It’s only a matter of time before all the details are made public though, and they’ve been warned that a few reporters are already sniffing around the Sheriff’s office for the full story and they should expect it all to be made public by dinner time. Dean and Cas spend half the afternoon hashing out how they intend to handle their dubiously earned real-world notoriety.

Thursday morning, New Year’s Eve, Dean sends Cas a message from his official Fiance Anon account and then they write up the answering post together.

**_Hey, Bumblebee. I wanted to make it official, so here I am. All official. <3 Fiance Anon_ **

_As you all can see, Fiance Anon has an account now. After a harrowing incident earlier this week, which we’ll share the details of as soon as we’re able to, we’ve decided to permanently deactivate the anonymous ask function on this blog. I’m very sorry to our followers and friends who may have preferred to communicate with us anonymously, but for our own well being, we regret that it has become a necessity._

_We aren’t going anywhere though, and we’ll have several big announcements to make over the next few days. In the meantime, we both hope you have a very happy and safe New Year._

They read it over three or four times and then Cas posts it.

Victor calls just as they’re getting started making dinner Thursday night. Rowena had been arraigned on charges of conspiracy, kidnapping, first degree murder, and a host of other minor charges, but her attorney convinced her to accept a plea deal. As a result she’ll be spending at least the next 30 years in prison. Luke’s charges were filed formally, but his doctor testified that he’ll likely never recover consciousness to stand trial.

Victor sends an email detailing what they’re allowed to talk about publicly, since Rowena’s case has already been settled and Luke’s will likely never see the inside of a courtroom again. He also warns them that their names are now officially in the public record and to expect the press to show up sooner or later for interviews. Dean handles that revelation like a champ by switching their phones off and taking Cas back to bed. They have a wonderful time ringing in the new year.

Friday morning Cas is feeling a lot better and decides he’s up to composing a few big announcement posts for their blog. Dean brings his laptop up to their room and they work out the details of everything they want to say together.

Dean sends a submission from the Fiance Anon account with a picture of Cas’s ring, and a caption reading, “Guess what he said?”

Cas adds the comment, including a picture of the ring on his hand, “Of course I said yes.”

They spend a few minutes watching the excited and congratulatory comments roll in before working themselves up to make a much less enjoyable post.

Cas starts off by explaining exactly why they haven’t been around much all week, why they had to shut off the anon function, and why they’ve finally decided to reveal their identities.

_The things we’ve experienced this week will stay with us forever, and it didn’t seem right to continue this blog without ever being able to mention it because it is a matter of public record now. To talk about what happened to us is necessarily to also reveal our identities. We decided it was more important that we come forward to tell our story than to remain anonymous._

_Some of you may have been harassed online or stalked in real life. It’s terrifying, and it’s changed how we think about even simple things, like running outside to fetch something from the car. I think it’ll be a long time before I can do that without looking over my shoulder, even though I know the people responsible are no longer at liberty to hurt us._

_We reached out to friends and the police to help us through this and we were lucky enough that our claims were taken very seriously. We know that’s not always the case, so we’re putting this out there for anyone who needs it. If you feel threatened by someone in your ask box, report it to the authorities. Seek help from your friends. And if you need help figuring it all out, send us a message and we’ll do what we can._

Cas stops typing and casts a nervous glance at Dean, who’s reading over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this, Dean?”

“I’ve been ready since the day I met you. Plus we don’t have to give our names out directly if you don’t want to. Just link Dorothy’s article. If people are interested enough to find out who we are, they’ll click through and read it, and we can keep one thin layer of anonymity.”

“But that defeats the point of everything I just wrote.”

Dean shrugs. “I’m fine with whatever you write, Cas. You know that. I trust you.”

“Hmmm.”

_From now on, I suppose I can start referring to the Fiance Anon as Dean, since that is his name._

“Of course you’re gonna out me first,” Dean says, bumping Cas’s shoulder with his forehead.

“I’m outing myself in the very next sentence, Dean.”

_For the record, my name is Cas. Hi everyone. It’s nice to finally be formally introduced._

_Our dear friend, known to you as @QueenOfMoondoor, collaborated with her friend Dorothy Baum to write an article that you can read on this website about the entire incident that brought us to this moment. We’ll be taking a few days to recover and likely won’t be responding to messages or posting very much until next week. Until then, I hope you all enjoy another one of our selfies._

Cas pastes in the picture Dean took of their feet before he was carried out of that abandoned house. One of the medics is partially visible in the shot, as is the orange board that Cas is obviously strapped down to. He considers adding the picture of their faces Dean took a moment later, but it feels to intimate to publish online. Dean catches him looking at the picture again and pulls him in close, sliding the phone out of Cas’s hands.

“Let’s take one where you don’t look quite so blissed out.”

His voice only cracks a little, because Dean’s not stupid. Dean knows what he looks like in that picture and it still hurts him a little to see himself that vulnerable, and that scared. He definitely doesn’t want it to be his formal introduction to all however many thousands of followers Cas has amassed by now.

He drags Cas in and they both lean back against their pillows. It’s pretty obvious they’re lying in bed with the pile of pillows and headboard visible behind them in the shot. They’re both wearing ratty old pajama-quality t-shirts and haven’t bothered to shave or even comb their hair in several days. Dean doesn’t care about any of that. He wraps one arm around Cas, and Cas tilts his head until it’s nudging against Dean’s cheek as he lays across Dean’s chest. Cas reaches up to grab on to his hand as Dean snaps the picture, and the end result is remarkably flattering to both of them.

Cas tacks it on to the bottom of the post and adds the caption, “And now a reward for everyone who’s ever asked us to post a _real selfie_ , here you go. Our real, actual faces. I hope it’s not too much of a disappointment.”

“Your face never disappointed anyone, Cas,” Dean says when Cas hits the post button and shuts his laptop.

“Neither has yours,” Cas replies, curling back into Dean’s side.

He has been feeling better, but he’s still getting headaches from looking at the laptop for too long. Cas has given up worrying about when he’ll be able to finish his thesis. He’s at the stage where it’s all just nitpicky word choice editing anyway, and he sent his current draft to professor Moseley earlier that afternoon. As far as he’s concerned, he’s done with it until he gets revision notes back from her.

Dean sighs and hugs Cas a little tighter, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“‘S kinda nice, taking a little vacation like this,” Dean says. “It’s almost like a mini honeymoon.”

Cas snorts and pushes himself up on one elbow to glare down at Dean. “I hope you have something more interesting in mind for our actual honeymoon.”

“More interesting than the last week? God I certainly hope not. Just stick us on a beach somewhere and hope the most interesting thing that happens all week is the tide going in and out.”

“Hmm. I’ve always wanted to be served a drink in a coconut. That would certainly be the kind of interesting thing I could get into.”

“Maybe we could muster up the energy to go fishing.”

“Fishing doesn’t take much energy,” Cas replies, settling back down with his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Depends on what you catch.”

“Well I hope you catch a good one, then.”

“I already did.”

Cas pokes him in the ribs and then rolls on top of Dean, straddling him and leaning in for a kiss. “Me too.”

“See? I told you this was just like our honeymoon.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, and for all your encouragement. This was the first multi-part story I ever started, as well as the first AU. I still can't believe it's finally finished. Then again, it's not like I can't come back and play with these guys again someday if I get a hankering for a pink frosted donut. In the meantime, come find me on tumblr (just no creepy anons, thanks!). I'm [mittensmorgul](http://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Also, if you're interested, these are the rings I imagine Dean and Cas gave to each other (and really I want both of them for myself pffft):  
> [Cas's bee ring](https://www.etsy.com/listing/100348793/bee-ring-in-sterling-silver-bee-my-honey?ref=related-1)  
> [Dean's honeycomb ring](https://www.etsy.com/no-en/listing/251105040/honeycomb-ring-14k-rose-gold-sterling?ref=shop_home_active_9)
> 
> ETA: I had to come back to the notes here to make a liar of myself. This is NOT the end of this story. There is DEFINITELY going to be more. This 'verse started with fluff, and it's gonna end with fluff, darn it. So yes, it's official. Fluff ahoy. :D  
> (it's gonna be a while, but I just wanted everyone to know it IS going to happen)


End file.
